simple. random. elegant. "Grass Oil" - you know how kids mispronounce words when they're little -- like "miminee" for "lemonade"? my youngest son, Thing 3, said those kinds of things too, but he made it abstract. "Grass Oil" was a phrase he used to describe what i made for dinner one night. what is Grass Oil? simple. random. elegant. there it is.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Yosemite Sammin’ over Fragal Ratzen Switsrigribin Science
On January 12, Thing 2 was assigned (along with all his
classmates) the frutstikriken science
packet for tomorrow night’s (February 28) science and math expo at school.
He turned in his packet, which announced his project:
“Effect of a Slope on an Object” the title of which I find utterly untenable. Being
a writer, I absolutely resent the passive voice. Why can’t it be blistrikriken called “How a Slope
Effects Objects” or “Things that Roll Down a Slope” or “Here’s What Happens to
a Marble on Mini Playground Slide”?
Passive voice notwithstanding, the last yours truly heard
about this kwazteriken project was
On the walk to school this morning in the mid-winter
sunlight and beneath the barren Snow White-scary trees, I witnessed other
children ambling along with their massive tri-fold cardboard science
presentations. Some couldn’t see
around the edges of their projects, some presentations were perched atop
younger siblings’ strollers and others still were shuttled by their devoted
We didn’t verstigrobitz
“Looks like everyone has something to bring in to school
today; lots of kids in your grade, too and older kids too…” (I knew what it
was, but I REFUSED, frammit, to utter
the drastifregitz words “Science
“Uh, yeah. I decided not to do one. I don’t have to; so I
chose not to,” Thing 2 confidently declared.
Crickets. Do not grind teeth. Do not grind teeth.
Then Thing 3 (who is 8) said, in his best Commissioner
Gordon voice, “Hey, Dono, it looks like you don’t have a science project. The Expo is tomorrow, where’s your
work?” Nothing gets past Thing 3.
I mean, nothing. The kid is
sharp as a laser-guided, diamond-studded titanium tack. He built the Lego set of Frank Lloyd
Wright’s “Falling Water” for seven hours nonstop on Boxing Day, I thought we
were going to have to hook him up to an IV for sustenance.
Again, Thing 2 said, “It’s cool; I don’t need to bring one
Crickets from me, who has taken on the name, "Mominator" today.
The most recently I’ve heard about this project was about 45
seconds ago after I stomped my feet up the stairs in utter arghnitshaquin disgust about the entire grazifrakin situation.
Why? Because all of a sudden, Thing 2 grew a brastinagitz conscience. “My teacher’s gonna be mad uh-uh-uh at
me… I mean, *sniffle snarf* she is already. I … uh uh uh … I uh uh uh, she’s
*gaspy sniffle* alreadddddydisAPPOINtedddddd.”
cry me a dritsagribin river.
He’s down there now, in the playroom doing his project. The Spouse is helping him. I refused. What I couldn’t believe is that I caught just a little guff
for helping Thing 1 when he needed assistance with a project a few years ago
and I quickly growled, “I helped him because all he tristawrakin needed was fritzerbrickin
assistance in coloring the pictures he drew that would go along with the quistanitzin content he created and
assembled for his project. He was
almost fisterikrigen finished. And he’d been strizerwrikin working on it for at least a week…”