The youngest child lost another baby tooth because he is “NOT a baby.” At bedtime, I put it in a small ziploc and handed it to him for tucking under his pillow. He held the bag up to a light and studied the tooth.
“You know, I really like doing the tooth fairy thing because it means I get a dollar coin, but I kinda want to experiment with this tooth instead. I wonder if I can break it or dissolve it. Do you think I could leave a note instead of my tooth and still get a dollar coin?”
I took three of the children out to collect Pokemon today. I sat on a bench with my book and tried to get lost in the words, but I kept getting distracted by everything happening around me. Everyone was walking around with their phones, playing a silly game. A trio of middle aged women giggled as they stared at their phones. Twenty somethings alone, in pairs and in groups, wandered about, stopped simultaneously, then wandered more. A security guard on a Segway was hunting for the imaginary things. The participation alone was something I could have noticed and then ignored, but that wasn’t what was more interesting than my book.
Strangers were walking up to each other and pointing out places to look. A guy with dreads helped some frat boys. Shop workers chatted with children who were showing their collection to anyone who wasn’t ignoring them. A 20-something stopped and explained some nuances of the game to my 11-y-o. Stacheman interacted with eeeeveryone. It was amazing.
While people on social media are alternating between pithy memes, the usual MLK quotes and blame, this was two hours of real people being kind. It was surreal how happy everyone felt. Maybe I slipped in a crack and visited a timeline where the news wasn’t reporting how awful everything is everywhere. I don’t know. I only know that it was nice. Better than nice. It was perfect.
First time without… First time without… First time without…
I would really like to skip ahead to the part where I am happy that we had so many good memories together. Crying while holding a sobbing child in a cloud of firework smoke is exhaustingly discordant.
I make stickers of cartoon panels and stick them in my planner.
When I had an office, comic strips covered the bulletin board.
In college, I glued comic strips into my textbooks.
In high school, I thumbtacked cartoons to my walls.
In middle school, I kept a favorite strip in my pocket.
In elementary school, my parents bought me comic books. Piles and piles of comic books.
Book One: Socks
While using her reasoning powers to track down the partners to missing socks, Nancy encounters a pair of socks that do not belong to anyone in her house. It will take all of Nancy’s skills to find the owner of the UNCLAIMED SOCKS!
Coming soon – Book Two: The School Supply List
When scrolling the guide to choose something to watch, there are a few movies that always make me stop scrolling and start watching. They are movies that I can quote verbatim. They aren’t necessarily considered “good” movies, but I love them. When Doug has the remote, he stops on them just because he knows I’ll twitch if he scrolls past them. That and he’s a good guy.
Movies I can’t stop watching (in no particular order):
Fifth Element (I know it looks like a genre theme, but…)
Clue (now it seems like it’s all dated movies, but…)
Secret Life of Walter Mitty
I have no idea why these movies trigger my comfort zone, but they seriously do.
She: “I’m exhausted. I’m emotionally low and I had to people for like seven and a half hours today.”
He: “Can I get you a therapist?”
You might be old and boring if you have a lengthy discussion about costs and leftovers, before deciding on new ingredients to include in the family’s weekly taco night.
Watching Flash season finale:
“I knew that was who was wearing the metal mask!”
“This is perfect!”
“Nooooo! Barry ruined it.”
Watching Castle series finale:
“Are they dead?”
“No, but that would make more sense than this.”
Watching Gotham season finale:
“I know I shouldn’t, but I love this show.”
“Best. Villains. Ever.”
Watching the first episode of Preacher:
“I need more.”
Comic book television is the best television.
Two and a half weeks remain until we say goodbye to the elementary school that has been a huge part of our lives for 15 years. Fifteen years of the same teachers, staff and classmates. Fifteen years of clubs and activities. Fifteen years of homework and tests and projects. All of these things exist in middle and high school, but not in the same form that they take in elementary school. Elementary school is leprechaun traps and play dates. You don’t get calls from the school nurse for skinned knees after you leave elementary school.
I need to do something significant to recognize 15 years in this school. Not a goodbye. We’ve had too much goodbye this year. This needs to be a happy moment of transition awareness. What’s the elementary graduation version of a major award?