March 22, 2007

Gee-oh, Gee-oh

I'm unclear on these new Child Abuse laws....

Do they include exposing my son to 80's rock?

Because, if so, I am in deep trouble.

Spring came out from behind its rock the other day and viciously attacked us with bright sun, a warming Earth, and a couple dozen purple-and-orange crocuses waving from the front yard.

As we drove from yon to hither and back (the parent's lament), I rolled down the windows and turned up the radio. Flipping through the usual channels because I wasn't in the mood for RadioDisney (which is evil) or classical. I wanted peppy, light.

I got the Police.

As the guitar and drums rolled into the speaker, he shouted from the back "this one, Mommy! This song!" and I wondered if it was a bad thing that he a) recognizes most of the songs from "Ghost in the Machine"? b) and can sing them all by heart?

Nah.

Once upon a time, this album played over and over again during a party at my house Senior year and a guy name Steve and I crawled under the pool table to avoid some inanity and ended up kissing. Steve, compared to the guys I had known before, was a very good kisser.

And though it meant nothing more than that, "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic" will forever remind me of being tucked under Steve's arm, hearing him sing some lyrics, and feeling his lips, and smiling while we kissed.

Until now.

Now that memory is going to fight with the one from an early Spring day. A day before the night when we would get to meet the author Mary Pope Osborne. The afternoon we raked out the front yard and laid down extra soil and fertilizer for our last spring in the big blue house. The day we stopped for the 2nd time in a week for Slushies on the way home.

The day my 6-year-old belted out, in tune and on melody, "I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day. And ask her if she'll marry me in some old fashioned way..."

And a moment of misty, thinking, thinking - someday, you know, he might.

And then it was time to sing the "Gee-oh, gee-oh" part.

So I did.

Except, he shouted from the back, "Mommy! It's Hee-o! Hee-o!"

I firmly believe that he should be 7 before I let him win one of these arguments. So I just shook my head in beat and belted out (off key) "Its a big enough umbrella; but its always me that ends up getting wet!"

He giggled.

Gee-oh!

Posted by: Elizabeth at 01:41 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 442 words, total size 2 kb.

March 06, 2007

I Am Waiting For Vizzini

When I was in my 20's, I did a little too much Princess Bride. Yeah, at first I would tell myself that I was only gonna watch it on the weekends. Then, the next thing you know, I was loading the movie on random Tuesdays - telling myself it was OK, because I'd had a hard day.

I found myself slipping quotes into inappropriate situations; "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned... I got involved in a land war. In Asia." "Have fun storming your wedding!" "Sir, you use the word 'incompetant' a lot. I do not think it means what you think it means."

I made my dad and grandmother go with me to a Mandy Patinkin concert once. Thank God that man can actually sing, because I didn't check beforehand. It could have been so, so, so very bad.

I knew I couldn't make excuses anymore once I found myself late at night... following updates of Cary Elwe's career.

Yes, I knew I needed help.

I just didn't know how to ask.

I go through these phases, these little obsessions. Little. Well, compared to a tsunami, maybe. Princess Bride, wedding flowers, Al Green songs, Dawson's Creek, Tom Selleck, quiche, General Hospital, Lyle Lovett...

It's pretty obvious that I have a problem. Problems. These additictions, indulgences that waste time. That I should give up, probably. And grow up.

Except the Tom Selleck thing. Tom Selleck, I'll never surrender. He was my poster-boy crush back in the day and everyone gets one poster-boy crush. It's in the by-laws.

So somehow these past few months I've pushed myself away from my silliness. Soaked myself up in the rest of my life. Got serious about freelancing, homeschooling, facing what needs to be done. And if I allowed myself a TiVo'd soap opera, then I would only allow myself to watch it fast forward - reading the subtitles to save time.

And, damn.

I'm here to say... I'm here to witness. Girl gets dull and overpointy when she rakes all the fluff outta life.

The other day, I just gave up and TiVo'd a bunch of Alias reruns. In the dark of the night, I made a bowl of salsa and chips and curled up with Michael Vartan.

Well, you know what I mean.

It's good to be back.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 03:03 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
Post contains 396 words, total size 2 kb.

<< Page 1 of 1 >>
24kb generated in CPU 0.0157, elapsed 0.0734 seconds.
65 queries taking 0.0644 seconds, 179 records returned.
Powered by Minx 1.1.6c-pink.