Friday, October 09, 2009
Boy: I don't think this movie has a mortal.
The Boy is ten years old. He's less prone to making those revealing observations and his dad is less prone to writing them down. The boy's mom and dad live in their own houses now.
It's morning. A Boy and his Dad are on the way to daycare. It's usually the after-school daycare but this morning, Daddy has an early tee-time with his brother and some other men from work. And Mamma's already at the airport. The Boy doesn't like daycare anymore; he's mostly grown out of it, so there's some gentle complaining.
As we drive past, a mom and her little red-haired girl are walking along the sidewalk, hand in hand, and Daddy takes a guess.
Da: Is that a daycare girl and her mom?
Da (teasing): She's pretty....
Boy: NO! No, she's five times more annoying than she looks.
Daddy laughs and the Boy is puzzled by this reaction. But Daddy thinks it a wonderful comment on the whole Boys vs. Girls thing.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Boy: Is there TV in heaven?
Mamma: Yes there's everything in heaven.
Boy: Then Tiger's Dad can watch him play the Masters this week.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The other day the boy invited me into the bathroom with him.
So, this is blog entry is off to a weird start, huh.
What it was though, he wanted to show me something that required viewing in a dark room. The small powder room on the main level fit the bill. He got me in the room, closed the door and turned off the light.
Boy: See that?
Boy: See that?
Me (straining to see something, finally noticing the napkin in his hand on which, glowing barely visible, are three letters): Oh, it's your name!
Boy (proudly): It's invincible ink.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Channel surfing over the weekend, I stopped for a while on "Inside the Actor's Studio". I enjoy the program and I haven't watched it for a long time, especially since the new TV has me almost exclusively among the suite of HD channels (of which Bravo is not one). The guest on Sunday's show was Angelina Jolie.
Me: Do you think she's pretty?
Boy (considering): No.
Me: Really? You don't think she's pretty?
Me: You know, a lot of people think she's one of the prettiest women in the world.
Boy: She must be naked a lot.
Friday, February 09, 2007
He's been sick with the flu the last few days and insists on sleeping with someone for added comfort. He provided some direction of his own.
Boy: I don't want anyone to get grumpy and say go back to your own bed. Is that anyway to treat a sick little bird?
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Grade Two continues toward its halfway mark. The Boy is becoming a better reader. Recently he's finally started to adopt the method of sounding out words from the letters. This sounds obvious, but up to now he would read a word first by recognizing it if he knew it, and if he didn't he would look at the first couple of letters and then guess the rest of the word. From time to time, he still falls back to this tried and untrue strategy. Like at church the other day with his Mom, reading from the missal.
Boy: "Holy, holy, holy. Lord God of power and ... mistakes."
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
My social and familial ostracizing began with Hockey Night In Canada around the television set. My favourite player was Bobby Hull and I cheered for the Chicago Blackhawks. This puts me at odds with my father and my brother who cheered for the Leafs or the Bruins or who knows who, but it wasn't the Blackhawks. When spring came and the ice melted, I cheered for Johnny Bench and the Cincinnati Big Red Machine. My dad and my brother were both Dodger blue. At a more grown up age, I was a rabid Expos fan while my dad was still blue, but now Toronto blue.
Now, with a Boy of my own, I try to cheer for whoever he's cheering for, but on the day of the Superbowl, wouldn't you know it, we landed on opposite sides. Both he and his grandfather were rooting for the Bears.
So there I was, literally and physically apart from my Dad (again) and my son as they sat together in the comfy armchair watching the game and I by myself on the couch. The Bears scored first on the very first play and there was great crowing from the armchair. Then as the Colts scored and the tide seemed maybe to shift a bit, my son left my Dad's lap and came to sit with me.
He grinned at me, farted on my thigh and went back to sit with his granddad.