Tiny Coconut

I have things.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007


This is what happens when it's spring break, and you have--no kidding, no exaggerating--six conference calls and a lunch meeting to deal with, and your husband is busy working on a project and your daughter is out at a friend's house: Your son cuts his own hair. Again. And not even so ridiculously that it's cute, like last time. Just enough to totally screw up the haircut you paid for just two days ago, so that you consider throttling him for a moment or two. Except, of course, when he announces what he's done, you're on Conference Call #3, and so you have to pretend nothing's happened, then mute the line and hiss at him to go downstairs and show his father what he's done and surrender all scissors until he can prove he's mature enough not to cut his own hair any more, which likely won't be until he's 34 or 35.

The poor kid is a mess, actually. Two days ago, Em and her friend C used him as a model for just about every gaudy cosmetic ever marketed to a 9-year-old. He had eyeliner on and lipstick; his nails (both hand and toe) were polished a bright pink, and there were sparkles all over his face and hair. ANYway...Something they slopped onto his skin caused a reaction, and now he has two GINORMOUS hives on his left cheek--so huge they've merged into one red, hot welt--and another one on his left temple that is only slighly less ginormous. (Yes, I've given him antihistamines. And calamine lotion. And hydrocortisone cream. And aloe. And whatever else you can think of. The hives just laugh at me.)

Plus he has seasonal allergies from the ridiculous winds whipping through the foothills these past few days, and so is coughing up a storm and has a constantly running nose. Plus he's decided to spend his entire spring break digging in my garden, and so when not actually physically in the bathtub, looks an awful lot like Pigpen. If Pigpen had welts on his cheek and temple. And little bits of sticky-up hair because he cut it himself.

Of course all was forgiven tonight when he came to me and said, "Can I lay on your back to fall asleep, Mama?" and then, situating himself, gave out a huge sigh and said, "Ahhhh. Now THIS is more like it."

As my mother is undoubtedly saying as she laughs and shakes her head while reading this, he's lucky I like him.

Labels: ,

free hit counter