The human my brain is a strange and marvelous thing.
When Ben and Karina were teensy babies, they spent many hours in their bouncy seats.* Usually, they’d be posted close to the action, which means close to the kitchen table. Our kitchen and the adjoining playroom have large, south-facing windows. In Minnesota, in the winter months, it’s the place to be.
Unless you’re a baby who can’t move your eyes out of the sun. So at a certain time every afternoon, I’d notice that they were squirming and crying and I’d realize the sun was in their eyes. Since they were closest to the kitchen, I started by closing the kitchen drapes. If I’d actually paused to consider the physics of the situation, I’d have realized from the start that the playroom window was the issue. But I was sleep-deprived, and I never took physics, so I repeated the same mistake several times.
Today, at lunch, Ben complained of the sun being in his eyes, so I automatically got up and headed for the playroom window. Forgetting, in the process, that he is A) not on the floor in an infant seat and B) not, in fact, an infant.
I finally got it right, and I’m still wrong.
*If there is anyone who reads this blog who might be tempted to comment about how horrible that is, I beg you to reconsider. Really.