babywhumpus

The Sound of Music is playing on the television, and The Captain is approaching Fraulein Maria in the gazebo while my son sleeps to my left on a pillow on my lap, fresh from fussing in his basket because he does not want to be alone, and he does not want to eat (unlike Fritz, who prowls, yowling, about the house, looking for the one who will feed him), so I sit, one boob out, unused, and a diaper cover on the needles to my right as the crickets chirp outside the windows at 5:34 in the afternoon--a sure sign that fall is approaching--and my best friends are drinking and cavorting at a house party in Wisconsin because life goes on even though it changes, still here I am, here we are, and somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good.