Not many people would consider the pre-prepubescent musings of a 7 year old child. However, at our house we do not have the luxury of denying him is take on most matters. Our youngest sees the world through an imaginary film that coats his vision and thoughts with play and some rather deep introspections. He is quite humorous in his delivery and … why not? Granted, this is the child that said his brain was removed shortly after birth. In his words, “when he was young.” To only be replaced with a mouse that pushes buttons. Sometimes “Good” buttons. Sometimes “Bad” buttons. You just never know what that little rodent is going to do.
A recent comment he made to his mother on the way to school was somewhat profound, now that I think about it. He said that when they start to grade his papers next year in the third grade, he wants to get A+’s. He thought a bit more and added “Bad grades should be Z’s instead of F’s. There’s a lot of letters that they aren’t using.” A lot of letters indeed. I tried to imagine the fine tuning that would be required in our education system that would care to evaluate the “Proof of Enlightenment/Education” to a twenty-six point scale. The percentage of an evenly-scaled platform puts each grade at slightly less than four points (3.8 and some change). When I went to grade school, our “A” was capped at 95 points. Anything below that was not an “A”. We also were forced to walk uphill to and from school. Children have the freedom of a whole five more percentage points in the current grading scale and rarely walk to school at all. Geez.
My son had another point of view this week that I thought applied to his deep understanding of life. It is hard to get your kids to drink enough water. They always want the sweet drinks. Me too. As one of those “mean” things that I do, I will make my kids drink a glass of water before they can have the lemonade or root beer that they are wanting. Terrible, I know. Occasionally, one of my bright children try to find ways to get out of it. My rodent-controlled son made a succession of attempts this particular time. His first excuse was the water had too much air or something in it that was making him burp. Throw in the visualization of him trying to suppress a belch. It was pathetic. Seven year old boys have no idea how to suppress a belch. They only know how to extend the throat and make them louder than their friends or big brother. As a male, I don’t think that you normally pick up that skill until you are married. I gave him that fatherly-look that you give a child when you want them to just drink-the-dang-water. He took a swig and ran his finger down the outside of the glass. “Daddy, I can’t drink this water. It is too.” He paused there and looked at his finger with a droplet of condensation from the glass on it. “It’s too damp.”
Laughing at your child is something we cherish in this family. My giggles were followed by his and we resolved that he should drink the “damp” water and he could have the equally “damp” lemonade.
I wanted to take a break from the novel today and give you at little post on something “different.” I did it. Now, off I go to add more words the manuscript. Keep writing and reading. It’s healthy – or so I am told. So is drinking “Damp” water.