Eight years ago I began keeping a list of things I could not believe I needed to say, and things I could not believe others had just said. Now the list is over twenty five pages long, has traveled to a dozen states, and bears scorch marks from having mistakenly been set on fire. It’s a record of many different voices, and it’s written in many different hands. It’s precious to me and my boys, and if there were a fire it’s one of the things I’d try to grab.
It has become a scrapbook of our lives, although that was not my intention when I wrote down the first quote. Now, when I sit down and read over the years of quotes I remember almost every one of the conversations, I marvel at how much we’ve laughed, and I notice certain trends that are uniquely “us.” Fascination with nipples and breasts. Sticking things in orifices. Vulcans, Judaism, and Ghandi.
When visitors come to our house they often see the list, as we keep it out in the kitchen. They start reading and soon ask why on earth someone had to say this, or that. And that’s when I know that the silly list I’ve made is part of the glue which binds me and my boys together; when they start falling over each other to tell the visitors about “this time when…”
Here are two of our precious pages…..