Madeleine from the summer of '05 reminding me these kids are growing up.
I have an interesting Friday beginning at 4:45AM when the alarm goes off resoundingly. I do up my tie knot in darkness and Sonnet drives me to the train station - in pajamas - and not a soul around. The train hosts a few day labourers and weirdo insomniacs. I am on my way to Paris and the trip takes a turn when, happily seated, I realise: bad oyster. I make it to Gare du Nord then Astorg's offices (they are none aware of my predicament) then back to the terminus then London, an underground, train and taxi home where I am now, gratefully, happily in bed, listening to Radio 4 under the covers with the chills. I had the afternoon pegged for a museum and jog along the Seine; instead, I am grateful for the 1513 departure instead of two hours later.
Madeleine informs us matter-of-factly that she is going to have her hair-cut like a boy. I suggest to Sonnet that we cannot allow Eitan to grow his hair like some kind of animal and not allow Madeleine to do herself the same harm.
I call a family assembly: "After you use the toilet, put the lid down and flush. I am tired having to repeat myself!"
Eitan: "You always say not to flush so we don't waste water."
Me:
Madeleine: "Yeah, Dad. What about that? Should we flush or not flush?"
Me: "That's a good point. I will consider it."
Eitan: "Same as it always is."
