Trenches

...as in 'down in'.

Scott woke up with a low-grade temperature this morning, and since it was high well into the afternoon yesterday I opted to miss school today. It's only a half-day anyway.

On any other school morning Scott would be hell to get out of bed. This morning he's up, totally cheerful, at 7.

He has an obsession about model rockets that seems to have sprung to life this morning. In the few moments I've been sitting here he has called me to come and see the rocket he's found online--5 times.

He doesn't realize that getting up is a factor. I have my laptop on my lap, on a portable laptop "desk" deep in an easy chair. To get up I have to transfer the whole shebang to the coffee table, but first I have to move my coffee cup, which is sitting where the computer usually lives. I have to heave the chair into an upright position and heave myself into an upright position to walk to the kitchen and ooh and ahh over something I'm not interested in...at all. And know that my future for today is other interruptions to "Come look!" "Mom! Come see this!" It is as much effort to fend him off as it is to go and look.

And the entire time I'm explaining yet again that I am doing something I don't want to be interrupted in, that when I get up I will come and see what it is he's found--I'm aware of the irony of how often I interrupt him in something he's interested in doing to have him go do something he'd rather not.

Effing hypocrite.