Muffins

When you’re two years old everything in the world is new every day. Even things you saw yesterday look different, feel different, are, inexplicably, different today.

The world is chaos. The patterns we live our lives by are things we have discovered for ourselves, created for ourselves — sometimes consciously, sometimes not.

When you’re two years old you have far fewer of these self-made patterns in your world. Each one you discover, each one that is imposed on you has far more importance and power than than any one will when you’re twenty, forty, sixty, eighty.

Current patterns. Tuesdays we go to Gymnastics. Sunday mornings we hike Sandy Creek Nature Center. Saturdays we eat muffins. Because muffins are awesome (awesome enough that Captain Beefheart has a song about muffins).

O insisted that I take pictures of her and L eating muffins. I snapped a few shots and put the camera away, but she complained. Eventually I was made to understand that for her, take pictures of eating muffins was a literal statement. I had foolishly just taken picture of her with muffins. So…

I also caused great distress when I forgot to photograph my coffee, so I let O do it. Okay, I held the camera, but she pushed the shutter and said cheese. Authorship is always a little fuzzy.