In The Morning

Oatmeal: It’s what’s for breakfast

Monday through Friday things are pretty much the same around here. The Husband gets up and goes to work before anyone else gets up. N arises very shortly thereafter and I linger in bed until 6:30. H stays in bed until 15 minutes before she has to be somewhere. N and I do the usual morning stuff and at the appointed time we head out for the walk to school. Our walk is the same every day and I return home the same route. What changes along our route is the things we see. Most days it’s all the same: the people, the houses. the view. Today was weird. I like to make note of the weird. The sidewalk is pretty much covered with beautifully colored leaves but in the bare spots there are still things to find. There was a dog tag for “Max”. I don’t know Max so I left the tag on the border of a yard by the sidewalk and maybe someone will claim it. A bit further along was a rather large pile of dog poo. Was it from Max? We’ll never know. We then crossed our second street and at this point I can see the crossing guard so I could let N run off alone but I don’t. I like having a few more minutes with him when it’s just us. In a clearing on the sidewalk just beyond the no longer abandoned house that is bustling with workmen there are a bunch of teeny tiny orthodontic elastics. Easily 15 or 20 of them.  Why? We cross the last street before the school saying “good morning” to the crossing guard. Mixed among the leaves are 3 bright blue dog poo bags, all of them empty. I said “Have a nice day” to N and turned around and made my way home. Weird. The whole way I just kept wondering how all this stuff appeared overnight and what could the story possibly be.