Just now, Seth was downstairs with me, working on math in my study (which adjoins the kitchen). I was getting set up to make turkey pot pie, and I put on a little Henri Dikongue, who I found at the library and have been listening to quite a bit. It’s exactly the kind of French/African cheese I just can’t live without. So after a while, Seth calmly gathered up his stuff and said mildly, “I’m going to do my homework upstairs.” I said, “Oh, I can turn off the music if you want, honey. Is it the music?” And he said, very matter-of-factly and kindly, “No, Mom, that’s ok. It’s your groove. I’ll just be upstairs.” So that’s where he is, probably listening to Jimi Hendrix (who, I must add, I would like to claim as my groove along with M. Dikongue), and the house smells really good and, people, c’est ca, c’est la vie!


Published in: on November 29, 2010 at 9:47 AM  Leave a Comment