Perspective

I’m not sure what was going on in this particular dream. I was at school, I’m pretty sure, although the gym was set up more like a temple where an enormous gold curtain on a bronze rod had just been hung on the southern wall for an impending godless ceremony. Eventually Heidi and Puck took off running someplace else as the school became a city street lined with gardens with a small river running through it.

Then Yali woke me for the day at 5:53AM – we’re improving – ready for Day 7 of his astronaut diet.

It was a quiet, sunny afternoon at home. Yali woke early from his nap on my bed, crying. I went back to inspect. He held up the sign for “I love you” then promptly fell asleep again for another half hour.

Puck was having some issues with the four – “FOUR!” – homework sheets he had to take home that evening. Most of his conversation with me on the drive home was:

“AGH AGH AGH!! MOM, I’M NEVER GOING TO GET THIS!!!! EIGHTS?!?!?! NINES?!?!?!?!”

I don’t like to diminish the credibility of a young man’s perceived personal troubles – especially if those personal troubles include the dreaded horror of multiplication tables – but I might have suggested that there were some people in St. Louis that night who could be facing real difficulties, like freezing temperatures on the streets, or potential starvation. He at least considered that idea for awhile before bemoaning his multiplication tables again.

During dinner, the three of us watched Yali conclude his meal of Greek yogurt with honey, and milk. We all agreed that it was nice for him to no longer experience food coming out of his nose at every meal. No one was happier about this, however, than Puck.

“Praise the Lord!” he declared.

After dinner I gave The Old Man from the Sea a hair cut and beard trim. More like pruning shrubbery. His beard is still the envy of many a man around the city. Frankly, he often has enough beard to deck out at least two genuine Civil War generals, or two 19th century theologians.

While Oxbear put Yali down to sleep for the night, I rested a sore neck in the other room after quizzing Puck on his multiplication tables. Then he decided to join me back there, hauling back his fourteen-pound complete boxed set of Calvin & Hobbes to read on the bed. He could still spend hours poring over those things.