****************************
"So, Katydid, we heard you walked around on using your canes all afternoon at the church fair! Mommy, daddy, and grandma all said you were amazing!"
"But I can't jump."
"But you went in the bounce house with O and had fun anyway, right?"
"No. I never get to have fun."
No, sweetie. You can't jump. And you will never be able to.
***
"Aunt NGS, Aunt NGS! Look at my plane! It goes really far and it has flames on it!" He blows on a straw, making the paper airplane fly across the room, landing by my feet.
I pick it up, examine in closely, and hand it over to him. "Do the flames make it go faster?"
"No," the pitying tone of his voice catches me by surprise. "It's just for decoration."
I guess five and a half is too old for whimsy.
***
"Gin and tonic?"
I hesitate, desperately wanting to get buzzed and pretend the bored children are not whining, the adults aren't talking about how the police are being unfairly maligned in the media, and the television is blaring a movie nobody is watching, but then I look over at my husband, knowing he's been fending off invitations for probably unsafe, but made especially for him food, living off the few hundred calories he can sneak out of the cooler we've hidden in our car, and looking like he's about to go off the same overwhelmed sensory cliff that I am.
"Better not. I might have to drive home," I point over at my husband, then mime tipping one back with my hand. "You know how he gets."
Later that night, he hands me the car keys, sweat dripping down his pale face, and I think it's possible that we've pulled off another weekend when everyone in his family thinks he's a lush, instead of a sick man.
 |
| Five is NOT too old for Big Bird, though. |
****************************
To see what Bestest Friend wrote about the theme of the day, check out her blog, Too Legit to Quit.
No comments:
Post a Comment