Prolifically Raw: High Road

Monday, July 10, 2006

High Road

Spencer and I are peddling bikes together. It�s prime talk time. Jo�s at pre-school and we are hanging out, just my boy and me under the summer sun.

Spencer: I met Dad�s new girlfriend. She�s so cool.
Sidelong look at Spencer, who is shining with her coolness.
Me: How cool?
Spencer: Very cool!!! She brought me a huge box of fireworks and it had this huge blah blah blah and those little blah blah blah...
Me: Nodding, while he details the various explosives, smiling with how yes, fireworks are cool even though I hate fireworks and haven�t bought him fireworks in years and how he really shouldn�t be bought off with one big box of fireworks ...
Spencer: ...blah blah blah sparklers and smoke bombs and we lit them all, just the three of us and she�s really nice too.
Me: More nodding, this time to go along with how nice she is. Of course she�s nice, that�s great, really, I�m so happy.

There�s a good spell of silence, Spence thinking about his night a bit more, searching for what to report next.

Spencer: She�s small.
Me: Small?
Spencer: Not tall, like you.
Me: So, I�m bigger?
Spencer: Yeah, you�re bigger.
Me: How about my butt, is my butt bigger?
Spencer: (laughing since this is our favorite joke) Oh, your butt is way bigger.
Me: Good, so I could probably sit on her, right?
Like I�m big enough to squish her.
Spencer: Mom!!
Me: I�m just kidding, you know, joking around. It's not like I'd ever do that.
Spencer: No, I know, I mean, you're a Buddhist!
Me: Right!

More quiet. I'm pretty sure he's done with his eye witness report and I can just make a turn and take the high road right??

But why?

Why go high when I can go low?

I mean, I've already gone there with the whole butt thing...why not go lower...why not just let myself go all the way down with the whole she�s so cool, she�s really nice, she small with a trim behind and the killer box of fireworks and just the three of them and how he's my boy, my baby, mine, mine, mine...

Sideways look over at Spencer, bent over his bike.
Me: So, how many books has she written?
Spencer: MOM!
Me: Sorry. I'm just kidding.