words without end

Before we leave the house he asks for his sunglasses.  He’s already wearing a watch, the one he wanted to put on right when he woke up.  It's so bright out here, he observes.  I need my sunglasses before I can go.
I believe his best accessory is still his smile.
He is a child of passionate convictions.  He tries to tell us about those convictions in the car and at meal time, when we're hurrying to get somewhere and when his brother is trying to tell us something too.  Especially when his brother is trying to tell us something.

Slurping noises come from the backseat as he explains that he's licking himself, trying to remove small spots in shades of gold and pink.  Because I'm trying to get my freckles off, he says.  You can watch me when you're done driving.  I'm licking my freckles and they taste like food.
Instead of watching, I wrote down what he said.

Mom, could a whale be my pet, a little tiny one? Please? he pleads.  He asks about this, lately, more often than most folks make small talk about the weather, often enough that a whale seems to be the only thing he wants more than his own big bowl of unlimited lollipops.

Resting on the bottom step by the back door, he shares a fish story.  Some people sit on the moon and fish.  With a fishing pole.  But they’re not fishing for fish, they’re trying to catch words. 
What kind of words, I wonder.
Big ones.  They catch big ones that are special.
I notice the hard "k"s in sharp contrast to the brush of his "sh"s.

Looking out the dining room window at some workers near the alley he asserts:  That's a tree eating truck.  It makes wood chips for people.  Those guys need to do all that work right now, before the rain turns on.

He has turned his life’s ambition from driving a dump truck toward capturing ghosts.  He runs through the house in his favorite fast orange jogging shorts, a lanyard belted tightly around his belly and a heart full of courage, yelling I have no fear, Mama!
I have no fear is his new anthem.  It goes well with his accessories.


rht said...

Who ya gonna call?

Adam and Vicky said...

Such a big boy with that haircut and big sayings. :-)

Poppy John said...

Jenni Baby,

Did the kid get a haircut...or, did you use some type of new gel/paste stuff?


P.S. Tell him I want to know what time it is.

Poppy John said...

Vicky beat me by 4 minutes. My luck.

Just like high school...my ACT score and my time in the 40 were the same...9.