I noticed for the first time today that my dad's hands looked old.
I've adapted, if not come to terms with my mother's aging. Perhaps I've thought about it more. But it was a real shock to me today that I'd dismissed the liver-spots on my dad's hands, and just noticed the wrinkles. Not shriveled, but as if the skin's one-half size too large. Just a half.
They spend so long trying to prevent us growing up too quickly, they forget how much time we spend trying to ignore them growing old.
Readin' Night Watch, but very casually
Listenin' to nothing
Thinkin' about bed
Most recently I was 
