So – we spend a lot of time lounging around here, twiddling our thumbs, enjoying the leisurely life of the self-employed. (This blog is full of lies.) Today, in the very late stages of my gestation, I came to realize that perhaps we don’t have any more room left to accommodate Tarzan. You see – where would Tarzan fit in the following tableau?

The instructions that came with the recliner clearly state that it only fits one grown man, one large dog curled up into a small donut, one very small toddler (preferably one who fails to thrive) and a small (but very flat) plush hippopotamus. If we try to add an infant to the mix, the recliner (our finest piece of furniture in the house) will instantly fall to pieces. Is Tarzan really worth all that? Perhaps I will have to drop him/her/it off at Movie Gallery and hope someone else has more room.

While I was gestating and debating, Matthew was noticing a different (but equally troubling) problem.

You might not have noticed, but Alden has a remarkable case of crazy bed-head. But her bed-head happens all day long. And bears no relation to if she was recently in bed. It’s just nappy all the time. You might not have noticed it before now, because it mostly happens all around back. The hair on the top of her head and in front remains short and in control, but when she turns around – look out.

It has caught many an innocent bystander by surprise. They see her first, head-on, say, in the front of the shopping cart. “How sweet!” they say. “So cute!” they say. And then as we roll on by, “Oh, my!” and “Wow” and “That is quite a head of hair.” They immediately begin to pity the child for having such negligent parents who obviously never try to put a brush to her head. Actually, the fact is, she does have negligent parents who never try to put a brush to her head. In part because it is an entirely hopeless cause. But also in part because we believe that is where she draws her incredible strength. Much like Samson, only hopefully without the parts where the eyes get stabbed out. Or maybe, even better, much like Dylan, only hopefully without the skeezy mustache.

***

She has greatness ahead for her. Maybe she will outgrow the recliner and its greatness before Tarzan even shows up.

***apologies to Milton Glaser, whose genius does not deserve to be bandied about so flippantly