Snapshots, featuring me!

I can't find his camera, which probably means he's been using it even more than I realized. For now though, I'll guest post my own photos to accompany the wordy snapshots. Cause, you know, I take a shot or two sometimes also.

**He was supposed to be getting ready for bed. I opened the bathroom door. No David. Movement to the right caught my eye. Hand soap was slathered over the cupboards, counter and sink edge in a thick orange film, and a giant cloud of soap suds towered from the sink and threatened to slop over onto the floor. Above all this, balancing high on the soap-slick bathroom counter, he stood, swaying and grabbing the flimsy mirrored medicine cabinet door for support. I glared. Lifted him down. He knew. For once, no protest, just "Sorry, Mom. I only started doing it yesterday."**

**He came upstairs as I was watching the sky deepen from the loft window. "What're you do... Oh." He stood and watched with me as the sky glowed in patches of peach and maroon, and doves careened up and down with no apparent purpose other than to ride the fading light. "Take lots of pictures," he told me. I did.**

**He brought my husband his birthday presents. "This one's from just Mom; the rest are from both of us," David said. "Well," my husband replied in his stupid voice, "Mom said she'd be getting me a certain present, and I certainly hope that one is just from her." My son glanced at me. I chose not to elaborate.**

**After Obama's speech, oblivious to the controversies and fears, both imagined and real, with which adults concern themselves, he gave his opinion on Obama's mother ("She had to do stuff on her own sometimes, but she loved him like how you love me, so she did it."), on persistence ("Did you know that lady who wrote Harry Potter had to send it out a bunch of times? Barack Obama said so. I wonder how many tries I'll need to publish my book."), and trying one's best in school ("Yeah; I think he said something about it. Can I have a juice pouch?")**

**I picked up the director's cut of Watchmen for my husband for his birthday. The questions started at once. "Why's that guy making fire? What're those guys doing? Are they good guys or bad guys? Why can't I watch it? When can I watch it? What's on that one guy's face?" Finally, a little fed up, I said "David, don't worry about it. You wouldn't like it anyway. It's not for kids, not even big boys." Of course, he protested. "Really," I said, "you wouldn't like it. It's AN ADULT MOVIE, and it's for Dad and me!" At these last few words, the whole of Borders went quiet.**

**Particularly bright splotches of cumulus clouds in the late-afternoon light drew my attention, and I set up the tripod in the front yard. He followed with his own camera, capturing a few shots of the giant solid clouds and then moving on to some wispy high-flung streaks I hadn't seen. He wanted us to just lay on the car hood and watch the clouds afterward. A passing neighbor chuckled at us. We must have looked odd, I guess. I didn't mind the reaction. David, on the other hand, didn't even notice the reaction. Just said hi and went back to cloud gazing. I think that must mean I'm doing something right.**

**"It's called the K-something, because C was already used up. It's the orange square," David said to his friend while digging in the sand under the slide, referring to a color-coded time line in a dinosaur book they'd been reading. "The dinosaurs all went extinct after the orange square, and it was probably a comet or an asteroid or something hitting the earth, plus lots of volcanoes, and the weather changed." His friend: "But some of them might have slowly died off, and not gotten to the edge of the orange square! So maybe it wasn't just an asteroid." David: "But the rest of them all died then; none of them got to the yellow square." (Yellow square = Tertiary Period.) "AND, there's, like, a layer of space sand on the earth right then!" His friend: "Wanna trade dinosaur books?" They agreed, then they threw sand at each other and dug for the K-T boundary in the neighborhood playground.**

**I got out of my car at the grocery store, and there was a guy standing feet from me. "HAHA!" he laughed for no apparent reason. "Working hard or hardly working?" "Um, probably the later, this time of day, hehe," I said, trying to be polite. He had pushed the automatic thing on his car, so I heard it beeping, but he was walking away from it and toward my son and me. I marched toward the store with much more deliberateness and speed than necessary. He was gone by the time I came back out ten minutes later. Still, I glanced in my back seat before getting in the car. My son thought I was getting his seat ready.**

**He made his own concoction for my husband's birthday snack: half-set chocolate pudding (with much more fudge pudding mix than strictly necessary), cookie crumbs smashed and sprinkled over it, and gummy worms crawling through the soil. My husband actually loved it. Of course he would have said so either way, but I think David could sense the sincerity. He was so proud.**

**I was hoping to spend the afternoon with him, but his friend called and asked if he could come over and play. I was a little sad, but he was so excited. Of course I said yes. He had a great time. Part of me wishes he still only had the best times with me, but this is part of being a parent, I suppose. And he was so happy.**