Winton: "But, Mummy! I was afraid of the cow. It was under the ground and it had big eyes. But then. THEN it went back to the barn. So it's OK now."
Clara: "Mummy, I had a bad dream"
Me: "What was it about."
Clara: "I don't care."
Me: Having always had dreams about my teeth falling out, the various irritations of life* have me grinding my fillings out of my head. My dentist stuck most of a dental probe between one of those fillings and the crumbling molar around it on Tuesday and suggested I "ought to have that seen to fairly soon."
*irritations of life
= the slam-dunk combo of being department chair
(imagine a list headed "Please do ALL of these things, they are all urgent." But while doing them you will be repeatedly interrupted by emails and office visits presenting you with MORE "to do" items)
(imagine a list headed "Please do ALL of these things. They are all urgent. And you should be more loving while you are doing them. And Please also continually consider how your failure to do these things well will either destroy your children or make them hate you")