Tuesday, November 15, 2011

In Which All Is Right With The World


I suck at being part of a group.

Sometimes I disappear. 

In my interweb lurkings, I popped in on Write On The Edge (Formerly The Red Dress Club) and the Memoir prompt happened to be something that I'd planned on writing anyway.

Because I'm in a place where I need to keep these moments close.  The ones where everything is ok.


Write on Edge: RemembeRED

The assignment this week is Pivotal Conversations.

Not sure how pivotal this was.  Well. It sure was for the stink bug.

Asterisks instead of quotations as none of this conversation was spoken.

*******

It doesn't happen often, but I love when Owen needs me after he's gone to bed. After he's taken off his ears.

I get to tiptoe into his realm, into his silent bubble.

Last week, I got such an opportunity, and was in his doorway seconds after hearing his call.

*What wrong? What happen?*

His right pointer aimed over his bed, where the ceiling meets the wall. His left pointer, in his mouth being anxiously gnawed upon.

*Look. Bug.*

Dramatic gasp. Mouth agape. Hands on cheeks.

He mimics me perfectly.

*What name bug?*

*Think maybe s-t-i-n-k bug. Gross*  Nose scrunched. Tongue protruding. Vomit pretending.

*What smell?*

*Like fart! Gross. Daddy butt. Same.*

Laughter squealing.

*Need bug dead.*

*Right.* Eyes wide. Smiling. *Idea.  Have. Come. Quiet.*

He follows me giggling to the bathroom where I gather up a generous wad of toilet paper.

*This? Get bug. Squish!*

*Where put?*

Under the sink, I find plastic wrap from a four-pack of toilet paper.  I fashion it into a bag and hand it to him explaining;

*You need help me. Important job you have. Mommy get bug with this. You hold bag. Mommy put bug in. You close bag. Quick! Understand?*

Giddy nodding of head.

With exaggerated stealth, in three big steps, we're back in his room.

*Ok. Ready?*

Nodding, hand over mouth suppressing snickers.

*Scared!* Feigning fear I climb ever so slowly onto his bed, looking back every few seconds at his smiling face, seeking moral support for my most dangerous mission.

*Do! Do! Do! Can!! Go!!*

I'm almost within reach of the bug when its hideous stank sends me crashing down onto the mattress, coughing and gagging;

*P-U! Bug fart on me!*

He finds my performance hilarious. Because it is.

*You crazy.*

A couple more aborted attempts for dramatic effect and the offensive beast is bested, wrapped up in the wad and thrust into the makeshift bag with truimphant flourish.

*Finish! Now. Put where?*

*Idea!*

Holding the bag as far away from his body as he can manage, he marches his trophy back to the bathroom, tosses it in the trash can and slams down the lid.

With a satisfied sigh and hands proudly on hips he gives me my leave;

*Good work. Good night.*

*Good night.*

*You crazy.*

And all is right with the world.

21 comments:

  1. Reading this is like watching a secret moment between you and your son, with no one else around to interrupt the dramatic capture of the stinkbug. You relayed it so well, and what a great memory to keep tucked away.

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  2. ooooooh, Perfect.

    xo

    (also? my dog just farted. that's just the way my world works.)

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  3. I never know what to write, but want you to know I read your blog and as always am kleenexed out.

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  4. I love this secret moment.

    You're a good Mama.

    Also, "bug fart on me"- I die. :)

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  5. You know what I'm going to say, right?

    You two...a match made of the ages.

    Forever and ever.

    *tries to swallow down lump in throat*

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  6. You're such a cool mom. You make so many of the things most of us take for granted and turn it into an adventure.

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  7. An awesome moment I could never reproduce. Because I am afraid/squeeked out by bugs. Next time I see a gigundo bug, I'm gonna call Bug Busters. (Cue theme song) ((You know you and Owen are the Bug Busters, right? Good.)

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  8. Oh the theatrics.

    Fake barfing and catching stink bugs sounds like a perfect end to the day.

    Those little moments are definitely pivotal.

    Also, I've never encountered a stink bug. A insect that smells like dog fart would just piss me off.

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  9. Awesome post!! What a special moment you shared with Owen. I bet it meant as much to him as it did to you!! You are an AMAZING mom!!! AH-MA-ZING!!!

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  10. I love it. You really do relay it well. With just your few words you had me giggling right along with you.

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  11. First let me thank you for not making me cry.

    Also, I'm with Alexandra, you two are a match.

    Plus, there's a spider in my office, just out of reach. Can you two come rescue me?

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  12. I can picture watching this like a silent movie, except you're way better an actress.

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  13. My favorite detail (among many) is the exaggerated three steps back to his bedroom...

    all stealthy-like.

    As if you two were reenacting a scene from the best cartoon ever.

    With farts, even.

    Also, boy giggles rule.

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  14. Special moments to be treasured. Loved this.

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  15. the dynamic duo rids the room of stink and bug! YAY!

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  16. You're my hero.
    Awesome.
    I don't do bugs. I will face down crazy ass people. But I can't do bugs.

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  17. i need to stop by more often. you kill me mama. bug farts. the best.

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