Monday, January 08, 2007

Children at Play

The other day we got into one of those laughing fits where you can't look at the other person without laughing. It went on for several minutes, about to the point of tears. That kind of thing doesn't happen every day, or even every month, and the ensuing gratitude about knocked the wind out of me. Her sense of humor cracks me up and she thinks I'm funny too.

The boy invokes laughter too, of course. We went for a walk down the hill on new year's eve, and the waxing moon presented itself to us plain and unassuming. It had just caught my eye when he said, "Yeah, I like that moon." A few more steps. "It's got eyes! Can you see the eyes?"

"Well, I suppose I can see the eyes. Sure, I see 'em." A few more steps.

"But... the moon is sad."

"Why do you think the moon is sad?"

"Because it doesn't have anything to eat."

I pondered that one for a spell while the boy lagged further and further behind, as some people are want to do. As he lagged he began emitting a variety of loud and high-pitched vocalisations, with an ever increasing tone of insistence to them, until I felt obliged to ask him, "What are you making all that noise for Gumbo?". The lady of the house and I have taken to calling the children Gumbo and Gumba in an attempt to Mardi Gras up the party season (now until 2/20, Fat Tuesday). It's working, try it at your house.

"Because I'm not sure if the moon can hear me." Good one Gumbo. We laughed like school chums on a long bus ride. Yes, the moon heard us, and no, the moon is not sad, unless you want it to be, and then it's lowest level of hell of move you to tears sad.

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