Tag: family

John John just finished 3rd grade but was home sick from summer camp today. Not “sick” sick, but, like, taking-antibiotics-for-a-rash sick. 

So at the lunch hour,  I took him with me to the little deli where John and I have been getting sandwiches on the regular. It’s in a strip mall convenience store run by the cutest couple. I’ve seen their kid there before and she seemed around John John’s age so had no hesitation to take him with me. 

We ordered. We waited for our sandwiches to be made. The wife made them and eventually brought them to the counter to ring us up. “He looks just like you!” She commented. He and I were both wearing masks but even with the limited exposure it was clear to her. “Yeah, people tell me all the time that he’s my mini-me.”

She showed him his sandwich to let him know that that one was his. It said “BLT” in sharpie and had a smiley face drawn next to it. The other sandwiches were unmarked, so smiley was special for the kid. So sweet. 

Back at the house, we were eating our lunch and telling John about the excursion. “What did you think?” John asked. “It was fine,” John John answered with almost-nine-years-old nonchalance. 

“The wife made our sandwiches,” I told John. Then, remembering how nice she had been, I asked John John, “Did you like her?” 

“NO!!!” he erupted. 

His tone was that saved for only the most onerous of offenses.  Like when his honor is being challenged by the accusation of ‘Liar’ from someone of dire import, like his sister. 

I was stunned to silence. 

“No, I didn’t “like her”!” he emphasized with a touch of sarcasm. 

I began to unravel. And as I realized I was unraveling, I caught John’s eye. There was a glint. I lost composure. 

The idea that he thought I was asking if he “liked” liked this lovely sandwich lady was just too, too much. I was slain. 

But now that I’ve regained composure, the question is, in light of the illumination above, what the hell meaning did he read into that smiley face?! 

I can’t ask, I won’t ask. But, I’m not sure if we can go back to that place en famille again…

John John is still very much in the inquisitive “why” stage, and it seems like the questions often come at inopportune times for me, like when I’m trying to merge on a crowded freeway, or we are trying to finish getting dinner on the table.  But instead of setting a boundary to get some space, I often just give in to answering these questions – it’s like some part of me truly believes that if I answer, then the subject will be closed and the questions will stop.  Of course, they never do.

It drives John nuts, all the back and forth that happens with John John and me.  He can’t understand why I let myself get sucked in.  Frankly, neither do I.  Which brings me to this story.

Yesterday, John John uncovered this plate I’d gotten from a thrift store when he was littler and never found useful as an actual plate, and so relegated it to the toy area.  I also did not understand the plate, and something about that disturbed me and made me uncomfortable using it. For example, if the little one is the baby, then the Salt and Pepper shakers are the parents.  What was the baby condiment supposed to be? And, why was the partition at the left so small?  “The baby condiment is red, and the partitioned area is small.  Maybe it is supposed to be for ketchup and the baby is ketchup,” you might logically think.  Except that there are holes in the baby’s lid.  You may not be able to see it in this picture, but there they are.  Also, why would salt and pepper’s child be ketchup?  The lack of logic of this plate bothered me, and these thoughts would run through my head every time I saw the plate, and I was relieved to relegate it to the toy drawer.

But here it was, out, and John John asking to use it on the alternate days from when he wanted to use the other plate I got at the same time, from the same thrift store, that also bothers me (it appears to be a cute plate with the alphabet running around the edge, but upon closer inspection it had only ABCABCABCABCABC printed around the border, teaching nobody anything, and just looking like it says CAB CAB CAB at each and every glance…TOY DRAWER).

So, John John brought the dog plate out.  I was preparing dinner.  He began coming at me from all angles.  I’m deflecting, trying to get food done.  John is sitting at the counter, deftly ignoring us both and playing chess with someone online.

“What are those black and white containers, Mama?”

“Salt and Pepper”

“How do you know?”

“Because they are in shakers that we use for salt and pepper.  Also, salt is white.  Pepper is black.”

“What’s in that little one?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t.”

“YES, you do!”

“Maybe it’s, like, chili pepper flakes or something.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s red, and chili pepper flakes are red.”

“Mama,”

“Yes, John John.”

“What’s a flake?”

I’m trying to think of how to describe the chili pepper that we’ve seen in shakers at pizza parlors, despite the fact that those shakers are always larger than the salt or pepper shaker; my mind’s a torrent as I also try to finish the salad dressing.  At this very moment, John (who I thought was ignoring our ricochet conversation altogether), piped up:

“It’s someone who says they’ll do something, but doesn’t.”

I just about plotzed.

My dad was in town playing with the Cypress Quartet.  John John’s first concert!  We met Opapa in front of the venue.  John John was excited.

We sat in the very back, knowing that at any moment during the concert we might have to bolt.  John John sat on my lap barely making it through the chamber society’s lengthy announcements of their upcoming schedule, but sat up when the musicians entered and walked up to the stage.  He clapped, a member of the audience.

But they didn’t sit down to play.  First was the informational talk on what we were about to hear.  You can imagine how high that flew for a two year old.  We had to leave before the music even began.  (wah-wahhh goes the sad trombone.)

Happily, John John got his own private concert the very next morning.

He liked that very much.