Yeah, who would have ever thought that a threesome could get tiring? I know, I know, sounds strange but yeah, it is tiresome so I am shelving the Threesome Thursday for a while and will just go back to plain old Inez blathering about some inane topic. It works for me. I might drag out the Threesome deal again, probably will but not today.
Do you have a hero? No, not a guy in a book but a real person who inspires you? A recent discussion sparked me thinking about this and then, something happened. See, my son who I affectionately refer to as Damien(as in his twin is the Omen) is struggling in school. He is only in Kindergarten but due to circumstances beyond my(or his) control, he is just having a bit of trouble learning like everyone else. He has a lot of trouble with sequences, what comes first, etc. We read a lot of books and use exercises to help with this but he struggles. We’re getting him the help he needs and every accomplishment is praised but sometimes, he amazes me.
When I think MY HEROES, I can whip out a few names. Walt Disney, Milton Hershey, Lucille Ball and Jim Henson immediately come to mind and I can tell you why each of them inspire me ( I might next week). But this weekend, I got a surprise.
I was working on edits in my office and Damien asked for paper. He has his own paper for drawing and stuff so I told him to got use that. He wanted ‘book’ paper. Frankly, I was busy and a little annoyed but I handed him a few sheets of printer paper and went back to my edits. Somewhere between chapter 3 and 4, I realized he was far too quiet. This child is NEVER quiet, he even sleeps noisily. I went looking and found him in the sunroom.
He had drawn a computer he called his laptop and he was drawing and pretending to type. I asked what he was doing. He said, ‘I’m in my office working. I’m an author and I’m writing a book’.
In illegible scribbles and scraggly crayon drawings, he told me the ‘story’ he was writing. He had the sequence RIGHT! Beginning, middle, climax and ending all in place.With a huge overbite smile, he proudly proclaimed that he was just like Mommy.I praised his ‘book’ and he offered to sign it for me. I will cherish that autographed copy of his first story, about a caterpillar and a fireman, even if I can’t read a word of it.
I realized, to him, for at least this minute in time, *I* was his hero. Not because I am his mother or because I know he doesn’t like his sandwiches cut into triangles or because I hold the power of TV privileges. Instead I had given him something I take for granted… the ability to relay thoughts in a logical procession and to entertain while doing it.He enjoyed doing it. And I got misty-eyed.
Know what? I will never win a Pulitzer and I don’t care. I have a five page, bound by staples book about a caterpillar rescued by a fireman.