Wednesday, February 06, 2013


At dinner last night (it was soft taco night, which is a thing at our house):

[assembly of the soft tacos by all]

[hence, very, very quiet.]

[parenthetically: what is the sound of one tortilla folding?]

[a flour tortilla. soft tacos.]

Me: [to running son:] So how's that Chinese poetry class going?

Son: [incredulous.] How do you think? Poetry is stupid.



Sam Orme said...

soft tacos folding
a quiet family scene
the still of winter

(Not Chinese poetry, but it's something.)

Amelia said...

Bravo Sam, Bravo. If a taco folds and no one is there to eat it, does it still make a sound?

Nik said...

Ah taco night.

radagast said...

And an eye roll? Tell me there was an eye roll. Duh, mom.


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