I had a thought tonight. What if Z isn’t a child with less reasoning power than God gave an ameoba? What if she is amazingly deep and my mind just can’t comprehend her?

It occurred to me that she might be spouting new koans.

She came into the room, looked a transparent glass vessel, picked up said glass, and then asked while staring into the glass, “Is this glass empty?”

If she isn’t channelling a higher power who speaks in riddles, I’m going to start banging my head against the wall.


Yeah, so, while I was typing that she asked me to help her find her pajama top. She said the last time she saw it was in the hamper. I looked in and saw a nightgown on top. I said, “You could wear this one,” as I reached down and came up with a soaking wet nightgown. She said, “I wet that one last night.”

Head banging will commence now that I got the laundry started.