Lazy
With summer, the lazy season, almost officially upon us, it seems like the right time to admit to my own laziness. I was almost too lazy to write this post. So lazy, in fact, that I considered outsourcing it to my husband, who is always the first to call me out on my laziness. Paris, c. 1966 I was lazy from the start. In Paris with my parents when I was about five years old, I was exhausted from walking, so I ducked under a sidewalk café table and refused to move another inch. Today, I gravitate toward the couch, put off making dinner, and leave most household chores to my dear, industrious husband, Joe. I have been called “lazy” so often by Joe that when I told him I was considering writing about it, he was ready with examples of my indolence and lethargy. He was all in favor of my outing myself as lazy. Tom Sawyer tricks a friend I am in good company. Winston Churchill was famously lazy, often working from bed. Leonardo da Vinci took over 25 years to complete some projects. Home...
