Well, it’s been a week, I tell ya. A week. It’s passing in dog years, so I guess it feels more like 7 weeks. School is drawing to a close and the boys have been taking finals. I don’t have to explain what happens this time of year. We are all experiencing it in our own locale. Different schools. Different ages. Different kids. Same ole, same ole.
Some kids cause more heart attacks in parents than others. I worry about academics for one, but emotional stuff in another.
Sometimes these worries come out in your dreams. The other night I dreamed that I was standing in the family room holding a little cup of liquid allergy medicine. I walked it over to Mama’s Boy, who was draped over a chair watching TV and paying me no attention. I held the cup out to him and told him to take his allergy medicine. He very intentionally and ever so slowly looked over at me, almost like slo mo. He made eye contact and the expression on his face was one of defiance and disgust. It was the Stink Eye. He got up slowly from his chair, walked to the kitchen, retrieved a Sharpie, walked back to his chair, and slumped back down in it. Then, he took his Sharpie and drew a cartoon mouth onto the stomach area of his gray t-shirt, took the medicine from me and poured the medicine into the mouth he had drawn…all while watching me with the stink eye. At this point in the dream, I was like, “OK, boy. GAME ON.” So I took away his electronics for the weekend and he said, “Fine, I don’t care.” So I took them away for a week.
Then I woke up from the dream within the dream. But I was still sleeping. In the dream, I realized it was a dream and that B had not actually defied me or drawn a sharpie mouth for his medicine. I said to myself, I think I’ll punish him anyway. Can you punish a kid for something they didn’t really do if you think they probably would have done it? I decided yes.
And then I woke up again. For real.
My insurance will not cover the therapy needed for this one. So I’m just logging this under “Bad Dream” and moving on. It’s a new game I play. Good Dream Bad Dream? Is it good, invoking all things proper and right and fun and humorous? Or is it a wreck, invoking the horror in any given situation.
Today I’m going to play this game with two pieces of writing that are not my own. I’ll cast my own vote, but you don’t need my opinions. You can decide for yourself.
The first piece is a poem by Rider Strong. If you are older than 45, you probably aren’t going to know who that is. He’s the actor playing Shawn Hunter on Boy Meets World, which is a show I watched as a much younger person and have now been sucked back into by my teenie bopper wannabe girls. In today’s episode, Cory read a poem written by Shawn and with a little help from the “internet webs,” I discovered the actor had actually written the poem.
Top of the World
by Rider Strong
You don’t know it, but
Sometimes, I go to a hill that overlooks
the landscape’s mask of city lights
For a sip of momentary grace.
On this brink of everything I know, I can gain
An eyeful of the lost Atlantis in the human soul,
And a breath that fills my lungs with the air between two stars
If you were now to capture the image of this elation
In the framework of your mind,
Or find transcendence through these words,
Then at most you would know nothing
Of the beauty your existence throws to me.
For mine is a love no experience,
No measure, no words
Could ever degrade into reality by virtue of degree.
Good dream or Bad Dream? I think “Good dream” because I loved the thought of sipping momentary grace and filling my lungs with the air between two stars. I’m just corny enough to eat that for breakfast AND a snack.
My next submission is from today’s perusing of “Local News” on Craigslist for my town. I was hoping for some juicy tidbit about a seed spitting contest or something. But the first entry was for pets.
Pitbull puppys.just gave first shots .5 in 1 fists shots .8 weeks old. 8 left 3 males 5 females .rehoming fee
Before we vote on this one, we need to analyze it just a tad and make sure we know exactly what is happening with the pets that are being sold. Pitbull puppys. I’m not even going to address the spelling. I’m just not. Shame on his 3rd grade teacher. Sheesh. Technically, the pitbull puppies are the ones giving the shots. That’s interesting. I wonder about that. What do you suppose .5 in fists shots means? And how old is .8 weeks old? Mathematically, that equates to 80% weeks old. Doesn’t it? I shouldn’t attempt to work math into a post.
So, good dream or bad dream?
Well, it’s sort of SO bad that it comes back around to good again. An 80% weeks old puppys is pretty spectacular in its own way. Especially if they just gave their first shots.
So if your kids are still in school and your life is feeling kinda stressful, just go to a hill for a sip of momentary grace and know this: the stress will be over in 80% weeks.