Just A Silly Thought That Prompted A Quick Letter To L(A)

It’s been a while, hasn’t it, kiddo?

As much as I hate to admit it, you may well have made the right call in not being born. Despite my most cynical days being behind me, I’ll still concede that the past several years would have been . . . awkward ones for formative childhood years. Obviously lots of kids have done that successfully under even worse conditions, but with the benefit of hindsight I might have made the same call in your position.

That’s not why I’m writing today though.

I hope that one of the things that didn’t factor into your decision was that you were going to be saddled with admittedly extremely old-fashioned name. For the record, I had a more modern short-form version of your name ready for day-to-day use.

Yes, Exactly!

As I did the obligatory (and wise) walk around the house to secure things for our brush with Nicole, I decided a few things in frequent use on the back porch were sheltered enough that I could safely leave them so long as we didn’t get a dramatically unexpected shift in projected wind speed here.

I mentioned this to my son, stressing that I’d be keeping an eye on the wind, of course, and that if I started to see a problem forming, I could bring them in quickly enough, so it was something to watch for, but nothing to worry about since conditions were changing so slowly.

“So . . .” he said. “This would be an example of something that is important, but not urgent then.”

Standards For Posting Here, I Mean, Not Personally, Obviously

Well . . . according to my son it’s official. I now have my “good morning mug” (filled with tea), my “not a good morning mug,” and my “terrible morning mug” (a novelty mug with a snarky secret I can’t share here because I have standards).

“Now Bother Me No More For This Day”

Some years back (as social media helpfully reminded me today) I took a picture of my then toddler son looking suddenly exhausted right after he had managed to smear green cupcake frosting all over the lower half of his face. (I knew the cupcake was too big for him, but I dramatically underestimated the amount of mess he would make.)

But it was the caption I added to said picture that made me chuckle, because it’s a phrase I’ve revisited from time to time over the years since:

“Life . . . she is the mystery understood only by the clown of ennui.”

I Just Wanted To Get In A Final Hit Before I Fell

“By rights I should resign here,” I told my son after I lost a game of chess to him this morning. “But I’m going to give it a few more moves.”

A few moves later I had him in an easily countered check.

“Now I resign,” I announced.

I think that says a lot about me.

I Think I Was His Age The Last Time I Even LOOKED At A Checkers Set

“Hey, Dad, will you play checkers with me?” my son asked me this morning.

“Give me just a few minutes,” I replied. “First I need to tell your mom something, feed the dog, and . . . learn how to play checkers.”

No Cookie Could EVER Be Worth My Reaction!

“Mom said I could have some cookies; can you get them for me?” my son asked me today.

Now I know some parents might have doubted the veracity of this, but I didn’t, not even for a second, because I know that if my son ever does lie to me (and I’m not encouraging this son!), it’s not going to be over a couple of cookies.

Sometimes Nobody Ends Up With What They Really Wanted, But It Still Works

“Would you like to finish off the leftover potatoes and meatballs?” L’s Mother asked me last night. “Nobody else wants them.”

“I’m more in the mood for pasta,” I replied, “but I can make this work.”

As soon as I’d finished dousing them in tomato sauce and cheese though, L. walked in and announced, “You know what, I’d like those leftovers after all.”

Naturally, he didn’t want them after what I’d just done to them (he traditionally has them with gravy), and he was pretty put out by that, but I saw the funny side of it.

Particularly when I ended up making him pasta for dinner as a substitute.

He’s Learning!

“Don’t come this way!” my son exclaimed as I walked into the room today. Before I could make a joke like I had last time though, he quickly added, “I wasn’t talking to you!”

It’s Right Up There With “Don’t Spit Into The Solar Wind”

“Don’t step in the black hole,” my son said as I passed him this morning. (He was playing a game.)

“Okay,” I answered.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he sighed.

“I know,” I acknowledged, “but ‘don’t step in the black hole‘ sounds like good advice to me.”

“Okay, yeah . . .” he agreed.