she asked, not looking up from the computer screen in front of her. This of course was asked after answering a series of family medical history questions. My mind went blank, as if the optometrist just asked me to solve a complicated mathematical equation. What are your hobbies? She repeated the question, this time she looked pointblank at me. This unnerved me even more and I stammered like a complete idiot.
Where’s my mommy? I heard my daughter ask behind the closed door. My husband said I was in the room having my eyes checked.
She’s a handful. I blabbered on – I barely have time for myself.
I could almost kick myself thinking about it now. Why didn’t I answer something like reading? I’ve always loved to read, it doesn’t matter that I’ve been reading the same book for months now or that I’ve probably read the same page ten times already because I keep getting interrupted with a litany of I want this, I want that! Or I want a a cuddle NOW! And blogging? Blogging keeps my mind working, my creativity well-oiled and not rusty, hoping against hope that the words won’t fail me like it does sometimes (a lot of times actually). Or hoping that I have something more to say or write than Today my little one did this, did that, or said this, said that.
So what did I answer? I said, no. I don’t have any hobbies. What I should’ve really said was My daughter is my hobby. After all, what is a hobby? Isn’t it something that one does regularly in one’s leisure time for pleasure? Although I don’t really have any leisure time at all and if I do – I sleep. Oh yes, sleeping is also my hobby.
What are yours?