Katie And A Bath

Katie at a conference in Chicago (I think) where she discusses her Op-Ed project; shortly afterwards she hangs with Tina Brown from Vanity Fair and the New Yorker. Cool. Her Rolodex includes some very tradable business cards.

Madeleine corners me into buying her a new fish, and really who can resist? She has taken such wonderful care of Bubbles and Flippers, making sure their water clean and they well fed. Before their arrival, Madeleine painted a seaside landscape for behind the tank ("this will make them feel at home" she said). Never in life have these fish wanted for anything. Her joy at another reminds me of being a kid: like those Friday nights I would lie awake anticipating my allowance and a trip to Telegraph Avenue and Comics 'n Comics or Comix World (two within 100 meters - sweet heaven for a ten year old). Eitan feels a bit left out not getting a third-fish of his own but I remind him that we will bend the world to make sure he gets his football and so he seems Ok with it.

So this morning, there I am having a cold bath to sooth my tired legs from marathon training and the whole house, like, passes through. Madeleine has a pee. Sonnet fixes her make-up. Eitan sits down for a chat about football ("who would your rather play with - Ronaldo or Michael Owen?"). Sometimes I feel like I am in a submarine. A narrow one too. But it is all part of the family - nobody gives a toss about nakedness or human functions. For my part, I cannot remember the last time I was alone without somebody tugging on me somewhere. But then, since Eitan born I have been completely without that most human of conditions - loneliness. Even with Sonnet or in Northern California it was there. So an easy trade-off. But this morning I just want to have my bath in peace. Fat chance.