So, the night before last, Jack has the idea that he knows how to make it snow. He puts his pajamas on inside out, flushes an ice cube down the toilet, and sleeps with a spoon under his pillow.
He wakes up to pouring rain, and it rains all day. Late last night, while still raining and very windy, Char and I heard a huge ‘thump’ from outside. One of our large elm trees was uprooted and came crashing to the ground, narrowly missing a couple other trees and completely covering the roadway.
On the way to school today, Jack says, “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“For making it rain,” he answered.
So… I was torn. I could tell him that his little ritual didn’t really make it rain and possibly crush him. Or I could just accept his apology.
The choice was ultimately easy. I said, “Next time, try flushing two ice cubes.”
Abby and Uncle Dave are talking on the phone.
Dave asks, “Abby, what are you doing?”
Abby replies, “I’m sitting at the kitchen table for no particular reason.”
Driving through downtown Indianapolis yesterday afternoon on the way to Victory Field for the Indians baseball game:
Abby: “Hey, Grace, do you see that tall building?”
Grace: “What tall building?”
Abby: “The one with all the windows!”
(Remember, we’re driving through downtown…)
And Grace responds: “Oh, yeah! I see it!”
[See what else has been overheard]
I came home the other night from a ride during which I’d taken a fairly nasty tumble off my bike. I walked in the door covered in dirt and sweat and bleeding from several places. (I’m pretty sure I looked better that I felt.)
Jack looked at me and said, “Dad, what happened to you?”
I quickly recapped the story in all the dramatic fashion I could muster. He looked at me thoughtfully and then said, “Well, at least you got right back up on the horse, right Dad?”
What I was thinking was that I was a few miles from home, in the middle of the woods with darkness falling all around me and no one else on the trail. I didn’t have much choice but to get back on the horse.
Instead, I said, “That’s right, Jack. You gotta get right back on the horse.”
So when we think they’re not listening, they probably are. More importantly, however, they’re watching.
“Whose coffee cup is that?” says I.
“It’s mine,” Ben replied.
“Oh yeah? Where’d you get it?”
He looks at the logo on the side and says, “The Midwest Sleep Clinic.”
Michael says, “Why would they have coffee cups?”