Gotta' Love It

On days when I am not so much like my heroine, I sometimes use my journal to help me refocus.

As you already know, Monday was such a day. What you didn't know was that journalling was just the escape I attempted.

I went to my room mid-morning and closed the curtain because I don't have a door yet. I sat down on my bed, opened my journal, and wrote my first sentence. That was approximately when I heard John's voice through the doorway. Solitude, alas, rarely lasts long in our house.

"Katie, can I come in?"

"No."

*pause*

"I wanted you to correct my math."

*Katie (rudely) didn't bother to reply.*

It was silent for only a moment afterwards before I heard the remote control trucks start up outside my bedroom. I turned back to my journal, content in the knowledge that John had successfully found something else to do. At least, I was content for a moment....

I had written perhaps a whole two paragraphs when I heard the truck noise slow down and come closer. That was when I saw that one of the trucks was being carefully manuevered back and forth so that it was gradually pushing the curtain open. I rolled my eyes and returned to my work.

I find it relatively easy to cut out noise when necessary. Utilizing my powers of concentration, I was able to ignore the full-scale remote control truck performance that was soon in full swing on my bedroom floor. When I returned to earth, it was to realize that the trucks were gone.

At least, I thought they were gone. A quiet "vroom, vroom" attracted my attention and I looked up again to see the largest truck slowly, cautiously approaching the edge of my bed with a math book, a sheet of math problems, and a pen stuck between the front bumper and the hood.

I corrected his math.