Yesterday was a snow-day. The day before, Ian was bombastically and ballistically ill. We basked in the wonder of Netflix and watched the first season of MacGyver.
Ian filled his tool-belt with a plastic knife, compass, three pirate eye-patches, and a treasure map. I made a book of matches for lighting fuses. He drew a map consisting of a line with a single dot, labeled ‘BOM’.
Science fiction is important in our home to me. Kelly likes Star Trek and will tolerate Star Wars, but she draws the line at string theory or Firefly. I need an outlet. So, when Ian started talking about ‘estimallations’ (i.e., constellations) and planets on the way to school, naturally the discussion turned toward the terraforming of Mars.
‘How would you change Mars so that people could live there?’
‘Well, first I would buy a water park.’
‘A water park? Like Aquatica? Why?’
‘Because we’d need a big bucket.’
‘Ah.’
‘And I would carry the sea to Mars in the big bucket,’ said my son, who does not possess doctorates in Chemistry, Biology, or Long Division.
‘How would you get the bucket to Mars?’
‘Lots and lots of people. Oh! And I would use the bucket to carry oxygen, too.’
‘Why oxygen?’
‘Because we need to breathe. But the oxygen would just float out of the bucket. Oh! We could put a lid on the bucket.’
‘That’s a good idea! Shouldn’t we use a rocket to carry the bucket?’
‘Well, the rocket would probably shake the lid off. But we could put a lock on the lid. And put the big bucket inside a bigger bucket with another lid. And lock that.’
And as my son transformed a world within the idle moments before school, his backward letters didn’t seem so concerning.
Shoes | By Anonymous
My father has a pair of shoes
So beautiful to see.
I want to wear my father’s shoes.
They are too big for me.
My baby brother has a pair
As cunning as can be.
My feet won’t go into that pair.
They are too small for me.
There’s only one thing that I can do
Till I get small or grown.
If I want to have some fitting shoes
I’ll have to wear my own.
Because we can’t afford a hybrid or flash water heater, I decided to do our part for the environment by replacing our incandescent Christmas lights with LEDs. I was also out of replacement bulbs, and we’re running low on band-aids.
Returning from dinner last night, Kelly wondered aloud why the blue bulbs seemed brighter than the others. ‘Mommy?’ Ian asked as he climbed toward the front door.
‘Yes?’
‘Maybe it’s because your face?’
The Responsible Parent within me—who dreads the moment his son meets a teacher without a sense of humor—shuddered. The Daddy within me fell to his knees with laughter while simultaneously standing with pride, subsequently spraining his duodenum.
