Last night was absolutely amazing. This week has just been a whirlwind as well. I’m pretty boggled by how everything is just dropping into place. Truly, there is magic in the air.
Yesterday I had the privilege of writing a piece for a new client that included both a reference to one of my favorite childhood cartoon characters, splashes of color and… the movie I looked to for years as the pinnacle of awesome.
I feel, quite frankly, almost as if I am cheating at this whole “adulthood” thing. But that’s another story.
I didn’t know it earlier this week but all of this would eventually tie into its own sitcom like bubble in its own time.
I’m writing on a blog that looks like a chalkboard and writing about school… It’s….
Speaking of which- I spoke to Ethan about how he started school this week. He’s not thrilled. He’s ten years old. He doesn’t understand why his artist punk rock mom would be envious of his time at school. Of why I started to brim over when I was approached by a potential academic writing client for a university project…
Dad called me the day prior to ask me what I was up to. He was the catalyst to the last piece of ribbon on the present of my present (and subsequent story).
“Hi [embarrassing nickname] what are you doing tomorrow night?”
“I don’t know right now. It really depends on [redacted]. What’s going on tomorrow night?”
“I was wondering if you want to go to the baseball game.”
“Yes! I would love to go! When is it?”
“It’s tomorrow night at 7. Can you get to the stadium?”
“Yes. Or at least Union. Could we potentially meet up at Union? It’d probably be easier for me and the bus goes right to the stadium.”
“Who are they playing anyway? Is it a promotional night?”
“Yes they are giving away bobble heads.”
“Oh that’s great! I want to get some people to go with me for Hello Kitty bobble head night on the 9th so I get a couple for me and Sakura. Who’s playing tomorrow?”
“You can only go if you promise not to root for the Dodgers…”
“So… who are they playing?”
” …the Cubs.”
“Tell you what pops… if you bring me a shirt to wear, I can do that.. maybe.”
“Do you want to go or not?”
When I got in the car, there was a shirt waiting for me. I was told that it was too big for Ethan. I didn’t actually expect that to happen. I guess he didn’t want me to cheer for the Dodgers that much though. I was in such a happy glowy mood that I ignored the potentially passive aggressive move and just played along.
“What are you doing tomorrow during the day?”
“I think I need to be on site to meet with someone, why?”
“I accidentally bought tickets to tomorrow and realized that they were during the day so Ethan can’t go since he’s in school.”
I then sat there and tried to urge my dad to let Ethan have a Ferris Bueller ditch day and go to the baseball game. It was all the makings of it.. right down to the Cubs playing. Nonetheless, he didn’t go for it.
“I never took you kids out of school when you were younger so why would I start with him?”
“Because you’re grandpa now and you’re supposed to let him get away with a few things that I would generally not say ok about. That’s why. Besides, it’s the first week of school. Just say that he’s “sick.” He’s not going to miss anything…”
And then it happened.
“Mom I don’t want to go to the ballgame. I want to go to school.”
What the heck just happened? Did my kid seriously just tell me that he didn’t want to skip school to see a baseball game? Suddenly I feel like I’m doing something wrong here. When did I fail at showing my son the way to be cool?
“Ethan you can’t be serious. You told me the past two days about how you didn’t like school and were complaining about having to go. Shut your mouth and let me help you get the day off here already so you can enjoy the ballgame…”
My dad was in the front with the biggest smirk on his face.
“Mom I want to go to school. I want to learn things tomorrow.”
It may take a little while before he gets to the level of cool of his mother but… I’m confident that he will get there eventually. But for now I’m going to just… go over here now. I can’t really complain too much about it after all. (But I’m totally going to…)