Flash has had a good day.  Dishwasher has been emptied without nagging, the bathroom sink is void of shaving cream and blobs of toothpaste.  He was extremely helpful shoveling and starting the snowblower again this morning.

While working on a curriculum project and trying to watch the football game, I took a long shot and asked if Flash had happened to see my glasses.  “Yeah, actually,” he replied.  “I have them right here in my hand.”

Amazed at the miraculous response and quick reply, I stared at him for a moment with my mouth agape.  “What?” he asked.  “I just happened to be standing right by the table where they were sitting when you asked.”

“It just seemed like such a quick response to what I thought was a rather difficult request.  I couldn’t have told you where my glasses even might be.”  I explained.  “Since you’re so amazing at things today, do you happen to think you could help me with one more request?” I asked.

“I’ll try,” he responded confidently.

“Well, do you happen to know of a single guy, about 6 feet tall, dark hair, goatee, smart, funny, charming…”  I noticed Flash nodding his head with confidence while I rattled off my fantasy request.  My mind started racing trying to think of what he might be so smug about, when I thought to add, “…a guy I haven’t already dated….”

Ahhh, that was the important characteristic that wiped the smirk right off Flash’s face.

“In that case, no, Mom.”

Well, it was worth a try.

Flash did a great job with Christmas gifts this year.  He had made a note, quite awhile ago, that I wanted an immersion blender and bought  me a beautiful Cuisinart hand blender for the holiday.  It’s been sitting on the counter, waiting for its inaugural use when Flash decided that chocolate malts sounded good the other night.  He decided this was a great opportunity to try out our new device.

Flash was concerned that I would be upset if I wasn’t the first to use it, but I assured him I didn’t mind in the least and was sure he could handle the simple wand functions.

From the kitchen a few minutes later I heard, “Crap!” with enough emphasis to cause alarm on my part.

“Everything okay, Flash?”  I inquired from the other room.

“Yes, but I owe you a mug.”  A sentiment reflecting the house rule that if you chip or break one of my new dishes, you owe me two of the same item in restitution.

“What?  You chipped a mug?!”

“Yeah, well, the blender is a bit tricky.  Where’s that big tumbler you had a few months ago?  The one with the polka dots on it?  That would be perfect.”

“Flash, I have no idea whatever happened to that tumbler.  Why on earth did you use a china mug to blend a malt in?”

“It’s the only thing I could find that the blender would fit down into.  Which, obviously it didn’t do well.  Maybe I’ll try a wide-mouthed jar.”

“Flash, there has to be a….”

“Oh, wait.  Ha.  Yeah, okay, so apparently the blender comes with a tumbler….”

Those darn tumblers just hide so well in the box…

We are working on a writing in our first grade classroom.  I’ve been reading books about winter and walks in the snow and my favorite, Owl Moon, to the class, to class to create visions of snow-laden trees and the sounds under our feet when we go walking through the woods in the winter.  I wish I could take them all on a little field trip as the whole concept seems to be completely foreign to all of them.  I remember vividly walking through the woods behind our home in the snow and loving the silence.

We started by just listing the things we might see, hear, feel and even taste on such a walk.  I had several try to convince me they would see dolphins and candy canes and even taste cookies.  We kept working on the concept.  One boy in particular was really struggling with the task, however.  Listed under what he might taste, he had written, “cheze its”.   I got down on my knees and asked him very quietly to close his eyes.  I asked him to dream about walking through the woods.  I talked him through the mental picture, the snow falling, the trees covered with white, silence and dark.  I reminded him of the books we read, of the animals they talked about, of the sounds they made.  I asked him to take a deep breath and then I asked in a whisper – what do you taste?

“Candy bars.”

“Candy bars?”  I said.  “In the middle of the snowy woods you might taste a candy bar?”

“In my dream I sure do!”

Well, true.  He probably does taste candy bars in his dream.  What was I thinking?

I want these curtains for my kitchen.  Badly.  I have been looking at looking at cafe curtains for my kitchen and I found this pattern and now I WANT IT.  The problem is that as far as I can tell, they are made in England.  They do not HAVE the 18 inch drop version (out of stock) that I need AND they are too wide for the windows I want them in.  They DO have a version on ebay, which would probably fit the other kitchen window beautifully, but then I wouldn’t have matching ones for my little kitchen windows.  Any creative minds out there have suggestions?

“Miss Eliza?”

“Yes, G?”

“I went to that thing where they put the babies in water.”

“Where they put the babies in water?  What do you mean, G?”

“You know, where you go and you watch them put all the new babies in water for the first time?”

[silence and a blank stare – from me this time]

“You know…we got dressed up and we went to watch my baby sister get put in the water.”

“In a pool, G?”

“Kind of.  Kind of like a bath tub.”
“Ooooh, you saw your baby sister get baptized, G?”

“Yeah!  That’s it!  Baptized!”

Had I made the connection that he was still thinking about our discussion of churches during the making of our stained glass window craft, I might have caught on a lot sooner to that one.

“Miss Eliza?  My dad calls my mom ‘Sarah’. “

“Isn’t your mom’s name Sarah?”

“Yeah, but I call her mom.”
“Of course you do, K, but your mom isn’t your dad’s mom.  She is his wife.  So he calls her by her name.”

[silence and a blank stare]

“K, you and your brother get to call your mom, ‘Mom’ because you are her kids.  But your dad is not your mom’s child.”

[silence and a blank stare]

“K, you know your grandma and grandpa?  That’s your dad’s mom and dad.  I bet your dad calls your grandma, ‘Mom’, doesn’t he?”

[silence and a blank stare]

“I just don’t get it Miss Wilson.”

“I think you should ask your mom, K.”