Monday, November 23, 2009


I just ate 14 oreos with milk. 14! It means I had a rough day. Sometimes life as an adult can be quite disappointing.

I don't want to be an adult. I want Tinker Bell to sprinkle pixie dust on my head. Then I would think happy thoughts like "pussy willows, Christmas, a good sneeze... These are a few of my favorite things." I would fly off to Neverland and live with the lost boys. I would torment Captain Hook, swim with mermaids and save Princess Tiger Lilly from certain death.

Unfortunately, Tink is fresh out of pixie dust. So the next best thing is chillin with my boy, T-bone. He is my green-eyed angel. When we play together I AM in Neverland. I'm a 6 year old and he's a 6 year old. We make believe and run and swing really high up to touch the sky. We play on the monkey bars and try to top each other's tricks. We hang upside down side by side.

My T is the coolest boy you'll ever meet. Today I let him play hookey from school so I could take him to the park.

"I'm ready, Mama" he said.

He wore an enormous afro wig and a straight face.

"You rockin that wig, T?" I asked.

"Yup. I'm rockin this wig."


Neither of us batted an eye or cracked a smile.

We had a picnic lunch of hot dogs and root beer. He rocked that wig.

We swang super dee duper high on the swings. He rocked the wig.

We hung upside down on the monkey bars. He rocked the wig.

"K, Mama. Now you rock this wig. You'll look like a hobo."

So I did.

"Yup. You look just like a crazy crazy hobo, Mama."

I enjoyed looking like a crazy crazy hobo. Sometimes looking like a crazy crazy hobo is just the medicine I need.

When we tired of the wig we dug a huge hole in the sand. T-bone stood in the hole. Then we buried him up to his waist. We dumped water in the sand to see if he would get wet. He didn't.

"I'm really short 'cause I'm standing in this hole," he said. "Pull me out."

We had buried him good! It was hard work pulling him outta that hole.

When people discover I have four children they usually click their tongues sympathetically and say, "Wow. You sure have your hands full. That's tough!"

It's not tough though. My babies are my escape from reality. My children are my Neverland.