That Little Bit of Wisdom
I watch my rabbits run around the house causing mayhem, happy to be let out of their room so early, instead of their usual 10 am-ish release. Pollock, the little gray one, asks that I pet her until the day I die, a perfectly reasonable request according to her. My boy, Ozzy, runs up to the second floor loft, claiming the printer as his prisoner and chewing on the copy paper.
I’m still a little hungover from last night and I cannot emphasize enough just how much I need a burrito. Since I have no clue where to get one before lunch, I settle on a Ramen noodle soup instead—breakfast of champions. The birds chirp outside, surrounding the house in song. While I recollect my memories, I watch the sun make its way across the rooms of our home. This brings me great pleasure.
Drinking with my siblings is always good fun. Last night we hashed out a couple of new inventions, shared our darkest melotonin-induced nightmares, and discussed a screenplay we’re supposed to start writing this upcoming week. On a whim, we also removed all the tile from my sister’s back porch, because she had kind of mentioned it in passing and no one could see a reason why we shouldn’t tackle that project right then. So we did.
(The rabbits would like to make it known that they want nothing to do with this entry. They’ve been snapping their little heads and chewing on the furniture, which usually means “come play.” They demand my attention. At this rate, I’ll be posting this at midnight so bear with me please.)
Yesterday afternoon I was getting ready to head to the studio when my sister called me to say my brothers were over her house and she had a huge chocolate-chip cookie that had to be eaten. She asked that I come over “just for a little bit.” She is 5 ft’ 5″, pretty as a peony, and a master negotiator. First, she hits me with the brother thing, because we are rarely all available and alert at such a reasonable hour. Then she sweetens the deal with the chocolate chip cookie, because I’ve never met a chocolate chip cookie I didn’t want to take a bite out of. And last, almost imperceptibly, she reminds me it will just be a short while.
“Just for a little bit” turned out to be 9 hours of talks and fun. Of course, there is that little person in my head who knows a cup of coffee will turn into a glass of wine. A glass of wine turns into a liquor run. And that liquor run turns into a space-time continuum where nothing matters but then and there. Somehow, the little person in my head that knows all this gets swallowed by sharks, and I suspect it’s because hanging out with them is like hitting a reset button. There are no expectations. No hurt feelings. They remind me how easy life can be. Family. Drinks. Laughter. The night progresses aimlessly as all good nights should. We all admit we don’t hang out as much as we’d like to—we have busy lives, and endless projects—but at some point during the night we hug it out and share that little bit of wisdom: I love you. I love you too, man.