Measure for Measure

I think today I will write something down. It is my height as measured by Ellie. Today, I am thirty-fifteen. She doesn’t specify if that’s thirty-fifteen cm’s, inches, metres, or Grand Pooba’s, just thirty-fifteen. She measured me with a metal tape after making me stand while nursing the baby and poking me in the eye with the sharp edge of the measuring tape. Shortly afterward, I decided to finally clean up some dishes which apparently interfered with some t.v. watching that was happening in the family room. “Turn off the water, we can’t hear the t.v.!” Hanna shouts at me. I retorted, “Turn off the t.v., I can’t hear the water running!” We agreed to disagree.

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