I know I said I was gonna delve REALLY FAR into depression in my next couple of posts, but I just can’t do it. I’m depressing myself… that shouldn’t even be possible. Instead, I’m gonna just chat, for a minute. I’m going to share a little bit about things that give me joy (even when I can’t feel it).
Today my little boy–my little ball of sunshine–took a stuffed toy to school. He does that pretty often, but I was proud of his choice, for 2 reasons. 1, it was a new toy (it’s good for him to not fixate on the same thing over and over again) and 2, he pronounced the toy’s name perfectly, first try.
Here’s where it gets silly: it’s a small stuffed cow, blue (turquoise?) and white, and I named it Mordecow. Double-pun, because “Mordecai” is an actual name, and in Britain, a “mardy cow” is someone who whines and complains and is generally unpleasant. Triple-pun, because I make Mordecow sing songs and goof around all the time? Quadruple, because Mordecai is a Jewish name, and Mordecow’s a Gentile? Quintuple, because…. REASONS? (I stole that last bit, but even so. The rest of it’s mine.)
Sometimes I crack myself up.