Beautiful Due

...to give the mundane its beautiful due.
- John Updike on the task of a writer

It is staying light a little longer in the evenings. We noticed that last night, my daughter and I did. She was finishing up her homework, a spelling vocabulary assignment. One of her words was "pseudonym" - she had to define it, then choose one for herself. Dad, I'm going to choose Penny Brown because pennies are simple and pennies are brown. What would yours be, Dad? I thought a moment. I kinda like Luciano Sauvignon.

My son was laying on the couch, reading. He was able to do it sans lamps as the setting sun was brilliantly bright. I'd asked him to read a couple of fantasy books from an author I'd like my company to acquire. We compared notes on the first one. Did you get confused at the end? I got confused, there was a lot going on. He looked at me a moment, then answered. Sorta, but not really. The second one's a little easier to follow; I like it better, but they're both good.

In the lingering light of studious older siblings, my youngest was compelled to do something homeworky. She gathered up some paper and a black colored pencil. Dad, I'm going to do some math problems and you check them, alright? My southpaw wrote:
98
+98 = 186 - is that right, Dad? I accepted the black pencil and gingerly pointed out she'd forgotten to carry the one. She opted out of erasing and just wrote a 9 over the 8 really bold and black. She did a few more addition problems until Penny Brown finished her homework, then Polly Pockets replaced pseudonyms and carrying ones.

My fantasy co-reviewer finished book two just in time to see Faith Hill usher the planet into the pursuit of Lombardi. Faith looked like Catwoman in her NBC black leather, so his jump from one fantasy to another may have been microscopic.

The Beagle and my girlfriend were roused from their afternoon naps. He stretched and scratched to go outside to pee. She stretched and said Kurt Warner sure is cute. I waited for Penny Brown to reply yes, but he doesn't hold a candle to Luciano Sauvignon. But she didn't. Sometimes, in the lingering sunlight, it's easy to forget to carry the one.