10 years ago (or even 5), I read a lot of philosophy. On cleaning day, my coffee table looked like this.
Now at the end of the day, it looks like this.
And I'm singin' my "Boo-yeah, Momma!" song! (Don't you have one, too?)
I can recite Go, Dog, Go without actually reading the words in front of me because at the same time I'm answering the question, 'Mommy, do you think Mother Teresa had any sadness?' while cleaning dog poop off of Teva sandals. And I also can find a tiny Lego block dropped in the bushes behind the house. During allergy season.
In other words, life is less studious but more philosophical.