‘What do you want?’ she asked.
Sensible question. But the one to which I seldom know the answer.
I want a thousand things that are everything and nothing all at once: things that are true, but that I never seem to know how to make real. Things that I would think are reasonable if someone else said them, but that I still talk myself out of — assume are impossible, unrealistic.
Molly, on the other hand, wants a cat treat. And she has done such a good job of trying to get it herself, that I must now give it to her.
I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere.