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elfsSaturday morning, after we had rallied at the chaperon spot (where at least one chaperon would sit, in rotating shifts, to be available if a kid got separated from her buddy, or if someone needed extra sunscreen, or a band-aid), I muttered something about finding more coffee. (Why, yes, I am a caffeine-based life form. Why do you ask?) One of the other chaperons asked me if I could get her one. "An Americano, leave room. And could you put some cream into it?" I told her I'd do my best, and whipped out my beloved Moleskin to note it down.
"You have to write it down?"
"I'll remember you wanted coffee when I get there, but I want to make sure I get the details right."
"Why are some of the pages cut like that?"
"Those have notes for things I've already taken care of. That way I can just put my thumb here," I showed her, "and the book opens to the first page of unresolved notes. These on top," I pointed to two glistening copper book darts, "indicate to-do lists. This one on the side is my master project list. These two on the bottom are my exercise and food logs."
"Oh, God, you're an engineer, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah."
"I thought you were a musician or something, with the beard and the kilt and the way you talk to the kids. You're just like my husband, all organized. You guys have your own language and your own jokes nobody else understands. My younger son is that way too."
I only wish I was "all organized."
"You have to write it down?"
"I'll remember you wanted coffee when I get there, but I want to make sure I get the details right."
"Why are some of the pages cut like that?"
"Those have notes for things I've already taken care of. That way I can just put my thumb here," I showed her, "and the book opens to the first page of unresolved notes. These on top," I pointed to two glistening copper book darts, "indicate to-do lists. This one on the side is my master project list. These two on the bottom are my exercise and food logs."
"Oh, God, you're an engineer, aren't you?"
"Well, yeah."
"I thought you were a musician or something, with the beard and the kilt and the way you talk to the kids. You're just like my husband, all organized. You guys have your own language and your own jokes nobody else understands. My younger son is that way too."
I only wish I was "all organized."
