Kara, my laptop, has had a coffee bath, a Diet Pepsi baptism, and was, finally, tonight, given a dose of chocolate ice cream. I thought about just pouring some of my red wine on the keyboard to seal the deal, but thought better of it. She really is my perfect-match laptop especially now that she’s experienced most of my very favorite things. I’m concerned that eventually wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwe’ll see some keys start to stick beeeeeeeeeeeeecause due to her diet. It’ll beee fine I’m sssssssssure.
Zachary, our favorite little Thespian, put on another show for me the other day. (Well, OK, he performs everyday; I just share the best ones here). We brought my brother, Chris, with us to church on Saturday night, so I got to sit squished in the back between the boys. The car seats take up so much room, I think I’d be safe unseatbelted since I’m so thoroughly wedged in there, but I, of course, still buckle up for the law…and the underage witnesses.
The boys had been pushing me back and forth and saying I was “Ping Pong Mommy.” Thanks to the wedge-factor (that was wedge, not wedgIE but I’m sure there was one of those too), I only moved about an inch all together. Unfortunately this light and fun pushing game got Zach all riled up. It was dinnertime and he was definitely prone to crankiness already. What started as all fun and games turned ugly when he started whacking at me like his personal piñata and pulling my hair just to hear me scream. After one serious tug, I yelled in pain and scolded him. The car immediately grew still – the people contents, anyway – as we all waited for the cry that would ensue.
I watched as Zach’s lip gradually grew in size, sticking out further and further (or is it farther and farther? I’m always confused on that one but typically avoid “farther” because, let’s face it: it just looks like fart-her and that’s just wrong). Right when he took his deep breath to release the floodgates, he put both hands up to his face and looked at me. In a calm and way-too-mature-voice (one that wouldn’t be out of place in a Shakespearan Play or Greek tragedy death scene) he said, “Now, I cry.” Then he covered his face with both hands, peaking out every once in a while to validate my attention to his woes. He removed his hands after a while and said, “I cry.” Not a tear dropped though.