Reflexive in Point Lobos
Jan. 2nd, 2008 05:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraY'all should give some serious thought to voting for Max when he makes his first presidential bid circa 2022.
When he'd asked, "What should I get for Robin for Christmas?" I'd replied, "Take Robin out, buy him some clothes and give him the benefit of your fashion expertise." (Though thirteen, Robin still dresses like a colorblind four year old.)
So yesterday Max spent a lot of time lobbying for Ben to trade the Macy's gift certificate I'd given Ben for the Borders gift certificate I'd given Max. Very smart move! If it had worked – it didn't – I would have ended up subsidizing three Christmas gifts instead of two!
When Max is president, he will balance the budget!
I managed to persuade both sons into accompanying me on the Point Lobos tromp. It was an incredibly lovely day and the trails were filled with old people whose New Years resolution was to exercise more. Not me, of course – I mean, I'm old but I don't make New Years resolutions.
"Why do you always have to take that everywhere?" asked Max grimacing at my camera as we got out of the van.
I shrugged. "I like to take pictures," I said.
"But why can't you just be somewhere without taking pictures?"
"Why can't you just let me do something I like doing that's no skin off your ass without criticizing me? I mean, I realize I'm your mother and you're at that age where I'm a constant embarrassment –"
"You embarrass me too!" piped up Robin, not wanting to be left out.
"Fine. I embarrass both of you. But honestly, it's as much of a reflex action as me reaching for my camera."
It's kind of a hideous sensation being scrutinized by Max's finely honed critical sensibilities. He sees every weakness! And he comments on them, always in a way that brokes no counter argument – "You don't have to be so defensive. I'm not making a moral judgment."
Honestly, I wish he'd give up this science shit and go to law school. He'd make a fortune as the future iteration of Ken Lay's defense attorney.
Of course, the real reason I brought my camera was so that I could sneak some candid shots of Max and Robin. They're not camera shy exactly. But they won't let me get near them with a camera. Is this a guy thing?
I got a few anyway:
The rest of the day was kind of a blur of errands and organization. Really, I should make a New Years resolution, and my New Years resolution should be to do one hour of organizing every day so I never get caught up in this hideous backlog of unfilled paperwork and unrecorded numbers, the sheer volume of which is so daunting that I am tempted to throw it all away, pretend I was the victim of a devastating fire, begin anew. I'm very good at beginning anew! Not so good at carrying through.
In the middle of the night, I bolted awake again. I'd had a really sad dream about Mother Teresa, of all people. She'd been talking to me about T.E. Lawrence. "We weren't that different," she told the dreaming me, and the waking me tried to parse that statement. Did she mean they were both megalomaniacs?
I remember there was a small theological to-do last year when Mother Teresa's letters were published and it turned out she hadn't felt the living presence of God in her life for some time. She had sunk into a kind of despair. As Ben, the former Catholic, explains it this is actually a very holy state as it reenacts Christ's own despair on the cross. Father, why hath thou forsaken me?
Were all her good works just for the attention?
Couldn't go back to sleep. Made coffee, crept into my office. Alas, no helpful elves had come to organize my files during the night. So it's back to searching for that piece of paper with my EIN number again. Needle. Haystack. Check.
When he'd asked, "What should I get for Robin for Christmas?" I'd replied, "Take Robin out, buy him some clothes and give him the benefit of your fashion expertise." (Though thirteen, Robin still dresses like a colorblind four year old.)
So yesterday Max spent a lot of time lobbying for Ben to trade the Macy's gift certificate I'd given Ben for the Borders gift certificate I'd given Max. Very smart move! If it had worked – it didn't – I would have ended up subsidizing three Christmas gifts instead of two!
When Max is president, he will balance the budget!
I managed to persuade both sons into accompanying me on the Point Lobos tromp. It was an incredibly lovely day and the trails were filled with old people whose New Years resolution was to exercise more. Not me, of course – I mean, I'm old but I don't make New Years resolutions."Why do you always have to take that everywhere?" asked Max grimacing at my camera as we got out of the van.
I shrugged. "I like to take pictures," I said.
"But why can't you just be somewhere without taking pictures?"
"Why can't you just let me do something I like doing that's no skin off your ass without criticizing me? I mean, I realize I'm your mother and you're at that age where I'm a constant embarrassment –"
"You embarrass me too!" piped up Robin, not wanting to be left out.
"Fine. I embarrass both of you. But honestly, it's as much of a reflex action as me reaching for my camera."
It's kind of a hideous sensation being scrutinized by Max's finely honed critical sensibilities. He sees every weakness! And he comments on them, always in a way that brokes no counter argument – "You don't have to be so defensive. I'm not making a moral judgment."
Honestly, I wish he'd give up this science shit and go to law school. He'd make a fortune as the future iteration of Ken Lay's defense attorney.
Of course, the real reason I brought my camera was so that I could sneak some candid shots of Max and Robin. They're not camera shy exactly. But they won't let me get near them with a camera. Is this a guy thing?
I got a few anyway:
The rest of the day was kind of a blur of errands and organization. Really, I should make a New Years resolution, and my New Years resolution should be to do one hour of organizing every day so I never get caught up in this hideous backlog of unfilled paperwork and unrecorded numbers, the sheer volume of which is so daunting that I am tempted to throw it all away, pretend I was the victim of a devastating fire, begin anew. I'm very good at beginning anew! Not so good at carrying through.
In the middle of the night, I bolted awake again. I'd had a really sad dream about Mother Teresa, of all people. She'd been talking to me about T.E. Lawrence. "We weren't that different," she told the dreaming me, and the waking me tried to parse that statement. Did she mean they were both megalomaniacs?
I remember there was a small theological to-do last year when Mother Teresa's letters were published and it turned out she hadn't felt the living presence of God in her life for some time. She had sunk into a kind of despair. As Ben, the former Catholic, explains it this is actually a very holy state as it reenacts Christ's own despair on the cross. Father, why hath thou forsaken me?
Were all her good works just for the attention?
Couldn't go back to sleep. Made coffee, crept into my office. Alas, no helpful elves had come to organize my files during the night. So it's back to searching for that piece of paper with my EIN number again. Needle. Haystack. Check.
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Date: 2008-01-02 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 06:41 pm (UTC);)