Just dropped my son off at school, which like many of the institutions in this part of New England is housed in a renovated mill building. That red thing there in the middle is a part of a generator of some sort.
I was thinking, as the alarm went off, about how my son was desparately trying to get out a sentence he had memorized to recite for his teacher. He wanted to show her a copy of Shel Silverstien's book Runny Babbit, which alters the words of poems for comic effect. He had altered the words of a little speech accordingly and had a lot of trouble in the heat of the moment making it come off right, partially because I had been distracting him just before that asking him to spell some words from his weekly list (collar and ankle).
Feeling good, but not necessarily about distracting him.
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