Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Sometimes easy decisions are hard to make.
Like this morning, when I was at the store and stood in front of the bookshelves with Oldest, talking about what books and authors and series we've both read and both want to read. He walked out with one. I left with nothing because I couldn't decide, but that's ok, because I'll read his, and Middle already gave me one she had finished.
Tonight, Youngest and I couldn't decide what we wanted to have for dinner. After a bit of discussion, we realized that the heart of the problem was that we both really wanted snacks. He wanted ice cream; I wanted chips and salsa. The part we couldn't decide was what "real" food to have first. Ultimately we didn't decide on dinner. We each ate a banana, thinking that might count for any sort of healthy eating requirement if someone asked. Then we ate snacks.
I thought my toughest decision tonight might be what to slice. I was wrong. The whole time I've been typing this (how do my fingers get this done when my mind is on something else? strange...), I've been contemplating whether to read here on the sofa after I post, or up in my bed. I'm already here, and so is the book, but my pajamas and the big comforter are up there. I'm not sure what to do. It shouldn't be that hard, and yet here I sit, wavering.