The 19th Hole

Last night, to celebrate the Boy's good report card, we went out to the Lone Star restaurant for supper. I noted as we walked in that they had a TV on over the bar that was showing The Big Break VII, something that the Boy and I watch together occasionally. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) there was no TV to be viewed from where we were in the restaurant. We sat next to the conveyor belt that processed the balls of dough into the flat burrito wraps that we were to get with our fajitas. The Boy enjoyed himself watching the wraps come down the slow cooking spiral, often getting in the way of patrons and waitresses, but having a good time anyway. He came back to the table and sat down.

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.

The Power of the Pen

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?

Me: What?

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.

Beauty is only skin (deep).

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?

Boy: No.

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.

What the Doctor Ordered

A Boy is only too happy to find reasons to come and spend the night sleeping in Mamma & Dadda's bed. He's a very cuddly Boy. This is wonderful for the first 5 minutes, then a person would like to get to sleep and the Boy gets directed to his own side of the bed.

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?

Reading Strategies

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."

Mamma: MIGHT!

Superbowl LXI: The Rain and the Wind

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.

What Have You Done For Me Lately?

Most days after school I ask the Boy what he learned about and most times he replies, "Nothing" at which point I exclaim, then what are we doing paying money to send you t school?" and he laughs.

Back from Sunday School I asked him again what he learned about and in a bored voice he answered:

Boy: Just Jesus.