Living in the moment

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Just before I left for lunch, one of Robin's grandchildren came in.

A toddler. Just wearing a diaper. Wobbled around the office, waving his arms are sounding nonsensical sounds.

All was perfect in his world.

He toddled up to the copier and removed a calendar on a magnet.

"You can play with that, but don't eat it," I told him.

He promptly tossed it over his shoulder and forgot about it.

More zooming around the office and commenting in baby gibberish. Then he spied the calendar again.

Picked it up. Shoved it in his mouth.

Momma reached down and took it away.

"I told you don't eat it," I said.

His bottom lip ran out and he threatened to cry, looking at me. (I have that effect on people.)

"Hey. Don't look at me. I told you don't eat it. She took it away," I said and pointed to his mother.

Then, just like that, it was forgotten and he was toddling off on another mission with color commentary.

Living in the moment, not worrying about the future and forgetting about the past. What an outlook.

Don't look for anything metaphorical, deep wisdom or profound insight (and if you look for that in my writing, then you have really got to be desperate anyway) in the above.

It was just a very bright spot on one of the worst Fridays I can ever remember having.

As I have often said, as the editor of a newspaper I have no friends. Easy to say.

But as one of my friends said this morning, it is also "impossible."

Sometimes being the newspaper editor is the worst job in the world.

Here's hoping for a better Monday.