Most of the time when I write, it’s about daily life. What is little man doing? What is Dad doing? What am I doing? And what am I cooking? But sometimes it’s nice to stray from the usual and write about other stuff. Not what’s going on around me, but something completely different. I read a post titled “What If Your Husband Was A Real Zombie (Part Two of The Land That Ideas Come From)“. In this post, it talked about ideas that come from the “What if…” questions. After reading it, I looked over at my dog, between feeding bites of black beans to little man, and thought “What if my dog were raising little man?” and I think it would be pretty funny. But it just might work. Though the bit about feeding little man black beans, that’s going to bite me in the but.
I have been having all sorts of ideas for blog posts lately and before I can get one on paper in its entirety, another one comes along and I shelve the first. Or, I put my idea on a list and when I come back to it, it’s no longer relevant. Like last night, I was going to wright about how my husband had caught himself on fire. But then when I sat down to write about it, the alarm on my phone went off reminding me to take my pill. So I went upstairs to do that. But before I made it to my room to take my pill, I stopped in little man’s room to check on him and he is so cute and sweet. I love this little guy so much, oh wait… I was going to take my pill, so I go and do that, then come back downstairs. OK, I was blogging right? Well, lets see, I should wright up some recipes and finish up that post about James Bond. When did I see that again?? OK, got that post done. Wait, I was supposed to write about my husband catching on fire right? [Husband calls] “It’s bedtime, lets check the house and let the dogs out for a final pee.” Where did the night go? How can I stop these million mile an hour thoughts to focus on one thing and bring it to completion.
So, in case you were wondering, last night my husband knelt down on the floor to get a DVD out of the computer/TV and his ancient Levi’s jacket which was tattered at the elbows (and everywhere else) hovered over the candle we had lit on the coffee table. When he brought his arm closer to himself, I notice he was on fire, said “Honey, you’re on FIRE!” He didn’t quite understand what had happened but got up anyway and then smelt his jacket. He took it off, smothered the flames (a few inches high and spreading fast). The jacket has been living in my garage since. Little man had no thoughts about the situation.