Further mishaps of Samuel; September’s poem

As I was typing out the poem, I got a bit of a shock: Samuel tried to hand me a glass of cold water and spilled most of it onto my chest. “It’s Daddy’s water,” he said.

His heart was in the right place. …

On his own initiative, he’d removed the pitcher from the fridge and poured the water into the glass. He left puddles in the fridge and on the kitchen floor.

This was the second time this week that he’d interfered with the fridge water. Two days ago, he emptied the same pitcher over Karin’s little potted plant.

Clearly, he likes to use the fridge. He also asks to microwave things; I lift him up so he can put food inside that appliance.

He also has been keen to press the “start” button on the dishwasher, regardless of the dishes’ readiness. This issue has been resolved. He now only presses the “start” button under my supervision, as a part of his bedtime routine.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Shakespeare, this month.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
ULYSSES
Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-sized monster of ingratitudes.
Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devoured
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done. Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honor bright. To have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail [piece of armor]
In monumental mock’ry. Take the instant [most immediate] way;
For honor travels in a strait so narrow
Where one but goes abreast. Keep, then, the path;
For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one pursue. If you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright [course of action clearly at hand, the path straight ahead],
Like to an ent’red tide they all rush by
And leave you hindmost;
Or, like a gallant horse fall’n in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear [the miserable, degraded members of the rear (as in a military charge or parade)],
O’errun and trampled on. Then what they do in present,
Though less than yours in past, must o’ertop yours.
For time is like a fashionable host,
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,
And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly,
Grasps in the comer. The welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing. Let not virtue seek
Remuneration for the thing it was. For beauty, wit,
High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
To envious and culminating time.
One touch of nature [a natural inclination, common to all men (to praise according to superficial values)] makes the whole world kin,
That all with one consent praise newborn gauds [toys, trifles],
Though they are made and molded of things past
And give to dust that is a little gilt
More laud than gilt o’erdusted [more praise than gold covered with dust].
The present eye praises the present object.
Then marvel not, thy great and complete man,
That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax;
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
Than what stirs not. The cry [public opinion] went once on thee,
And still it might, and yet it may again,
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
And case [encase] thy reputation in thy tent;
Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of late,
Made emulous missions [competitive and jealous warfare (the gods took sides in the Trojan War, fighting among themselves)] ’mongst the gods themselves
And drave great Mars to faction [to become a partisan].
ACHILLES
Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
ULYSSES
But ’gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Troilus and Cressida III.iii 145–191. Text and notes from The Complete Signet Classic Shakespeare.