things I think about in the middle of the night

Before I begin, I would like to dedicate this entry to a guy who once told me that the bushes I was looking at were mangroves. We were on a car ride from Mexico back to South Padre Island, where our law conference was being held. He told me this after we played 20 questions and his "answer" was St. Ignatius Loyola, (everyone else's "answer" was someone like Madonna, but not his) but before he told me that Harry Truman was a notorious womanizer. It was then I realized he was full of shit, having just read a biography on Truman. Everyone in the car, except for me and my girlfriend were in varying degrees of intoxication, so I suppose I could have forgiven him, except that another guy who was in Outward Bound pointed out that the bushes were not mangroves. For years after at work, whenever anyone said something improbable, someone else would invariably say "I've got to call mangrove on that one...."

Harvard, this one is for you.

Last night, Annabelle was sobbing in her bed and screaming for her mama. It was 1:30. Hyphen quietly told me "don't do it," but am a sucker and a glutton for punishment, so I went in there. When I got in there, she quited down--immediately and started to smile this saccharine, angelic smile. I sat down in the chair by her bed and she started to say, in her super sweet voice "Mama, you are my blessed mother." (Catholicism is already confusing this poor girl).

It was at this point that I started to ponder the nature of man. I took some philosophy class at some point that talked about the idea of the noble savage. That man in his purest state is basically good and civilization and its trapping perverts him. Then there is another school of thought that man is born without morals and is evil and civilization tames him. This is where Harvard comes in. He could enlighten you as to all the details of these two theories and it would sound like this "well, actually, it was Hobbes, who espoused in leviathan ..."

I was thinking about this because I was trying to decide how badly I was being manipulated. How we got so far off course from when she was a baby and I would put her in the crib awake and she would drift off to sleep and remain so until the next morning. Occasionally she would cry, but I always had the fortitude to not go in her room. Was that simply because she could not say "Mama, mama! I need you mama"? If she could have said it, would she, or is this a learned behaviour on her part. Whatever it was, the thought occurred to me that she is a savage, that must be tamed. I explained to her that I was going to go back to my room and she was going to stay in her big girl bed. Her sweet musings quickly turned into a full on screaming and crying tantrum with signs of possible vomiting coming down the pike. Not wanting to clean up vomit--the child can cry herself into urping-- at 1:30 in the morning, I told her she could come into bed with us. She then asked if she could bring Snoopy and her Dora book. I said no.

Later, when, Snoopy, Dora Goes to the Dentist, Annabelle, the dog, Hyphen and I were safely ensconced in the bedroom I asked Hyphen "do you think that man is a noble savage or do you think civilization betters him?" he grunted, turned over and continued snoring. The dog heard me though, and started wagging her tail really hard, making a thump, thump sound on the floor. I am not sure what she thought on the matter, but it is clear to me that someone in our house is definitely being tamed.