Not big on doilies and lace, (but very big on chocolate, candy, all things sweet), the lad came up with his Valentine’s Day card. And ode to his true love…
Tooth Fairy Musings
L: “I wouldn’t want to be the Tooth Fairy.”
M: “Why’s that?”
L: “She has to go around giving money for discarded body parts. I think that’s just gross.”
M: “Good point.”
Visual Aid
Samson!
As a serious baseball fan, I’m prone to superstitions, as in wearing the same pair of socks to certain events, making sure my lucky bracelet is facing upward, and anything else that might help determine the future (or a World Series win). Yeah, one person’s OCD is another person’s baseball.
That said, I admit I’m a bit nervous that L’s hair has zapped him of his strength. Hearty and strong, he was felled…
RIGHT AFTER HIS HAIR WAS SHORN!
Not feeling well on Sunday.
Came home sick from school on Monday.
Stayed home on Tuesday.
His malady? No fever, no sniffles, no cough, yet lethargic and without appetite.
WAS HIS HAIR HIS STRENGTH?
Guess I’ll go procure some of that hair growing concoction and find out. (Kidding on that.)
Samson?
When one says, “a little off the sides” one means just that. Instead, we got a LOT off of ALL sides. Hopefully, he isn’t Samson and doesn’t lose all of his strength and wisdom. That said, I can see his face! Who knew?
(This may also mark the end of the fifth grade girls following him around, which he described as “annoying.”)
Ring on It
SETTING: Super Bowl, half time show, our living room. Couches, chairs, 150,000 kinds of fattening dips, chips, wings, things, spent bottles strewn about.
TELLIE: Beyoncé.
L: “I’d put a ring on that.”
Guests: (crickets.)
M: “So would I.”
For Art’s Sake
Featured, a custom designed house with an interior tree and a post-apocalyptic buttress. By L.
Winner!
I played a game of chess with L the other day and… I won! Checkmate! Woooooo hooooooo! He looked incredulous (appropriate, as I can’t beat him).
I recounted my victory during our annual Super Bowl party and all of the adults said, “way to go. You’re showing off about beating your second grader at chess? You are awesome. Get some help.”
Gotta laugh. Especially at myself. (L did not lose graciously or gracefully.)
Next: Losing.
Bad What?
The words “bad hair day” should NOT be uttered by a second grader.
Enough said. (And yes, they were.)
To Publish or Perish
L came home yesterday and announced he had begun his magnum opus, called…. er…. maybe, “Red Eyes in the Night.” He explained it was a horror story (this from the boy who still nearly faints at the sight, description, or even mention of blood) and he had conquered Ch. 1. He told me that the secret to writing a successful horror story is to “add as much detail as possible. That’s very, very important.” When I asked why, he said, “details make the reader feel like he’s IN the story.”
Sounds good.
He told me that the second chapter would start with a simple sentence: “Meet me at the dock.”
“Doesn’t that make you curious? Aren’t you just dying to know what happens?”
He also said this was the first book he was truly committed to finishing. He then asked, “how old do you need to be to publish a book?”
M: “There are no age limits.”
L: “Wow. Seriously? Okay, I’m going to really make it the best it can be and see if I can get my book published.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I could make (and publish) the book for him. Better to have him shop it around, and see what kind of movie deal he can secure.
My Kid Wears A Gas Mask 