Streaming

Monday was the last day of Spring Break.  My kids had three separate Spring Breaks here, staggered for the past month.  And now, it’s all over.

Sometimes I can’t even remember what season it is here.  Last week, I literally had to remind myself whether this is Spring or Fall.  It’s a strange climate.  A wonderful but strange climate. 

We went to the beach the first weekend of Spring Break, then last Monday, we went to Disneyland.  (Daughter, me and her friend.)  It was quite possibly the best weather we’ve ever had at Disneyland (not too hot, for once) although after the sun went down, my daughter was cold but that’s because she did not take my advice when I told her how to dress.  I knew it would get a little chilly but she chose not to listen.  Too bad, so sad, sorry you’re cold. 

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Today while driving to pick up my son’s guitar from the shop where it was being fixed, I was stopped at a red light.  As I watched, a pick-up truck zoomed through the intersection, even though his light had turned red.  The entire row of cars  with the green light began to accelerate as that pick-up raced through the intersection and then the last car collided with the pick-up.  The entire front bumper of that car fell off.  The pick-up swerved off the road, over the sidewalk and straight up the hillside into an expanse of ivy. 

The car’s driver got out immediately but the pick-up truck driver stayed in his truck. 

And then my light turned green and so I didn’t get to see what happened next.

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Someone sat at my desk this afternoon or evening while I was away from my computer.  I noticed the evidence of a water spill first when I saw the curled page of my calendar page for this week.  I found that annoying enough because it’s a brand new week and that page was unsullied and there’s nothing I love quite as much as a clean calendar page, but even more annoying is the fact that the culprit TORE off the opposite page, so Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are missing.  We go straight from April 8 to April 16, as if time isn’t already going by too fast.  The current page is crumpled in my trashcan.  Very sneaky but not sneaky enough, kiddo.  Then when I picked up the calendar book, the entire back was wet.  Seriously, people. 

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Tonight, my 12-year old daughter “Koolaided” her hair.  I really despise rainbow-colored hair, unless, of course, it’s on a clown, but I am trying to not be the jerky mom who keeps saying, “Blue hair is only cute if you’re a clown.”  And her hair is now half-pink, so I don’t know.  Maybe it could be worse.  It’s only hair.  It’s only hair.  It’s only hair.

It’s only hair.