I like pie.

It was another gorgeous spring day here in the Townships. I actually combatted my general inertia to the point where I picked up a rake and pulled the oak leaves and other detritus out of the flower beds, revealing the tender crocus and hyacinth shoots struggling up through the recently frozen soil. My energy didn�t extend to actually gathering up the mess of decaying vegetation though, and right now there are two piles of brown debris, the marks and tendrils left the snow gone (I can�t take credit for that last phrase, I lifted it from a poem I know).

There was also a mighty shopping trip which included stops at Costco and Provigo, and a brief drop-in to the Banque National to buy �100 for my son to take on his trip in two weeks� time. I got to thinking about how the second child seems to get short shrift, all the plans I made that my son would have exactly the same opportunities and attention as his sister, and how it never works out the way you plan. For example, there are never as many baby pictures of the second and succeeding children. You end up not spending as much time with them the way you did with the first one. And yet, they are usually the better adjusted ones. We make all our mistakes and take out all our anxieties on the oldest. The next one is a walk in the park.

My daughter was a colicky baby. I remember reading somewhere that it�s the parents� anxiety which makes the baby colicky, and second babies are rarely afflicted in the same way. Well, my son was the exception. He too had colic. But whereas I would get all upset and uptight when Little Princess cried and fussed, I just laughed when Buddy Boy did it. Yet, he still did it.

Tonight is the awards night at his high school and he is on the Principal�s List (as always) for last year, and will be picking up a certificate to that end tonight. Whereas there is no way we would have missed an awards night that our daughter was implicated in, we are not going tonight. Why? you ask. Well, to be honest, he�s just getting a stupid certificate. It�s not a big deal. We would have to sit through hours of boring speeches just for a 30-second spot. Next year, when he graduates, we�ll go. But also, tonight is the only night Hubby and I can go to see Lysistrata being put on by the drama department, the play by Aristophanes, a part of which we translated from the ancient Greek when we studied it many years ago.

I already mentioned that we can�t take him to the airport when he goes to Europe because there�s a concert that Hubby is conducting, Little Princess is playing in and I�m soloing in that same night. I feel bad about it, but he�s a big boy, and I�m sure he�ll be fine without us kissing him goodbye in front of all his friends at the security gate. Still, see what I mean?

Anyway, I really don�t know where I�m going with this. Supper is almost ready, so I�d better go. Bye!

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