This morning I got Julian up and asked if he wanted to go exercise with me. He said "yes" so we busted out of there in ten seconds, motivated by the coming of the pest control guy coming soon. I always forget when they're coming and then they text me like 30 minutes before being like, "WE'RE COMING." I never fly out of bed so fast.
Hang on, I am dying over here. I just asked Sean what the word for "pest killer" was because I am brain dead and couldn't think of it. I then remembered the term "exterminator" and was like, do we even use that anymore? Sounds weird and dated. And then I remembered "pest control" and went with that. Well, while I continued typing, Sean continued coming up with words and I heard him quietly say,
"bug killer...pesticide...[he didn't realized I meant the person]..."
Then, even quieter, "...rat man."
And I lost it. It was so funny to me, how he continued to quietly whisper terms for this when I had long forgotten I even asked. Busting a gut. He then said,
"I'm trying to imagine what they called them during the plague. 'Better call the rat man.'"
Which kills me even more. Rat man.
Anyway... so the boy and I left and it was one of those days where someone waved a magic wand over it, like the Ghost of Christmas Present, if you read the book (which we are, and which is weird. So much stuff in there I had no idea about. He apparently walks about the town as he's showing things to Ebenezer and waves his wand around sprinkling happy Christmas dust on everyone). We had a lively chat in the car about this and that, exercised, and then I told him I wanted to take him to IKEA. Now, this kid has hated outings for a very long time. I basically stopped trying to take him to do fun things because he never wanted to. So for me to spring an "errand" on him like this, I knew I was playing with fire. But I did it. And he was shockingly chill about it. Happy day!
We made our way there and it had been a while since we'd been. We used to have a good ol' time at IKEA. While Sean did the boring things like shop and made the hard/annoying decisions, Julian and I played games-- pretending we lived there, sitting on sofas, playing with the display stuff, opening cupboards, drawers, turning on/off lamps. One time when he was small, we pretended like we were detectives or something and made up a lost key to something. We talked about the key the whole time. The case of the lost key. Some things were locked, some were open. We needed the magic key! And then at the end we opened a wardrobe and saw a key dangling right there in the center and we just about lost it. "GASP! IT'S THE KEY!" We still remember that day.
So being back after many years made me realize it was kind of special. I told him that I knew his tiny desk chair was ridiculously small and he needed a new one, so I would like to give him a new desk chair he could pick out as a present from me. He lit up, something I try desperately to make happen when I can, something for which I really have to work. We ran through the showroom, this time pretending he lived there. He examined the tiny-sized apartments saying he could imagine living there, expressed how he couldn't wait to live on his own, which I actually love. I know he'll be outta here before I know it. I'd rather he be ready/excited. Our vocabulary changed. I'd say, "You could store your tech stuff here... hang your pots there."
We found the desk chairs, we examined them all, he tried them all out, sat at a desk and pretended to be at a computer. He made a decision, we paused for a meatball lunch and had the best chat, found the chair, wheeled it wildly on the cart. I told him [again, no doubt] how I always desperately wish I had my [fictional] roller skates in places like this. (My skates I had when I was nine? I currently own no skates.) We took it home, and then spent the afternoon putting it together, just the two of us. Happily, with coordination and team work. Jokes. Laughter. Gifts, all of it. All of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment