The Baby

Has woken up, screeching and screaming at 4:58am. Again, somehow, I was already up and trying to get even more time for writing and reading before she woke. She usually wakes anywhere between 6-7. I know this is temporary. I know her top teeth are moving in her mouth.

It’s still a shitty way to start the day.

So I guess I’ll just end on something I find equally surreal, but also funnier than the baby whining and screeching before 5am. Something William F. Buckley, Jr. wrote for Universal Press Syndicate in 1996, “At St. John’s, real education is no dream”, featuring a very specific description of my now husband.

“The heat at midday was unmerciful, but George Robert Phelps didn’t suffer the burden of an academic gown. Tall, thin, redheaded, tieless, wearing eyeglasses and dragging his rumpled jacket at hip level, one wondered whether he was 17 years old or, at the most, 18. He had won a prize for an essay titled, ‘Music, Myth, and Philosophical Uncertainty in the Phaedo.’”

Was William F. Buckley Jr. hot for my 20 year old husband??

I mean, can you blame him?

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