Not Quite Aesop

Taking a little risk (and who knew there be the scene with the grandma and the no-teeth ...*shiver*) I allow the Boy to sit with me and watch the movie "Yes Man". He is somewhat baffled by the story line.

Boy: I don't think this movie has a mortal.

A Little Later

Much has happened.

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?

Boy: Yes.

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.

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.