Yesterday a storm rolled in with surprising speed, and I found myself thinking of my grandmother and how she absolutely loathed such storms.
That’s why when I alerted Lala (who was taking a bath at the time) about the storm, I found myself saying, “Lala Lou! There’s a storm comin’ in!”
Me: (thinking) That looks like some kind of delicious cinnamon cereal! (out loud while resisting the urge to steal a piece from the bowl while Lala isn’t looking) “What is that?”
Lala: “Pork rinds.”
Me: (blanching) “I’m really glad I didn’t steal some then!”
Lala got me some beard conditioner for Father’s Day because there have been one too many “Ouch! Pokey!” complaints from the household of late, and I wanted to give some conditioner a shot. When she gave it to me I found myself looking mildly askance at the brand name, “Naked Prince.”
“I prefer princesses, given a choice . . .” I started to say, but Lala both cut me off and topped my intended joke.
“Especially for rubbing on your face,” she concluded for me as innocently as it’s possible to say something like that innocently.
Today was one of those days when I just didn’t feel right when I woke up, and I only felt worse as the day wore on. The highpoint of my day was losing (and I mean profoundly losing) a game of Yahtzee to my son.
That was a pretty good highpoint though.
There once was a chigger,
Who wasn’t any bigger,
Than the point of a very small pin.
But the lump that he raises,
Itches like the blazes,
And that’s where the rub comes in, comes in,
That’s where the rub comes in!
– A bit of old verse taught to me by my mother
This last one I feel a little bad about (but only a little).
The first time L’s Mother and I went to Disney World, we ate at a particular place that we’d always said we wanted to go back to someday. So . . . someday finally came around on this last trip, and after our food had arrived, the server (knowing we hadn’t eaten there in years, and had made a special trip to do so this time) asked how everything was.
“Well,” I sighed, “I’m going to have to be ‘that guy,’ I’m afraid, because, honestly, the food isn’t as good as I remember.”
The server looked absolutely crushed at this (which is why I feel a little bad), so I followed up with my planned joke as quickly as possible.
“It’s better,” I chuckled.
(For the record, I was forgiven by the server for this.)
This next one was more fun for other people than for me, but a deal’s a deal. Since it turned out we were going to be at the parks on my actual birthday, I agreed to wear the “I’m celebrating” button and a set of ears if they could come up with something that I could make work with my hat. So after a bit of surgery on a Minnie Mouse Ear Headband to remove the bow, we had something workable, and out “Disney bedecked” I went. I even wore a Disney shirt.
(It said “I Tried To Be Happy, But I Got Bored” and had a picture of Grumpy on it, but I wore it. Even at the “happiest place on Earth” I’ve still gotta be me because that makes me happy.)
Another fun moment was when L’s Mother screamed at the appropriate moment when the lights go out in the Haunted Mansion. I wasn’t there for this particular moment, but I was there when she did this once before years ago. That time she got a round of applause from all the other guests, and if she hasn’t warned me what she was about to do, they probably would have had to peel me off the ceiling since I was the one standing right next to her. I’m told reactions were similar this time.
Sometimes I wonder if she missed her calling as a scream queen.
Last week I said that this week I’d probably talk about the fun times we had on our vacation, and that’s still the plan, but I’ve run into a snag. As I sit down to write this now, I realize a lot of the fun times just don’t translate well into stories because they’re essentially minor variations on the “rode a favorite ride again/saw a favorite character again and a good time was had by all.” theme. Fun stuff, but not exactly gripping literature.
One thing that does stand out to me right now is L. and me designing our own car at the Test Track to make the most powerful race car with a hybrid engine ever designed. That was cool. (Still not gripping literature, but it’s a good place to start.)
“You’re making a bit much of this, don’t you think?” L’s Mother asked me last night. “People are just trying to frame the positive, you know.” (I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea.)
A good case could certainly be made, I admit, but here’s my point:
Any frame that doesn’t reveal the whole picture is a bad frame in my opinion, and off the top of my head I counted three significant terrible moments with L. from our vacation. I don’t mention this to wallow and get entangled in those moments, but because while my son is ultimately responsible for his own behavior, each one of those moments were because he was overtired and/or being pushed into a situation he had been very clear he didn’t want to do, but he also lacked the decision making skills to navigate to what he did want to do.
Because he’s eight, and those coping skills will come with time.
By the end of the trip he’d learned a few things, and the adults learned a few things, just like the trip before. Sure, next week I’ll probably talk about the fun moments, but I think the terrible moments (the ones we learn from, at least) deserve better than being glossed over.
