I squish your head I squish your head

In the current reincarnation of my life, I am surrounded by boys.

Seth, my husband, Remy and Sky, my sons, their friends, and all the contractors and repair guys that come to fix everything that my boys try their hand at doing.  Just because Jesus was a carpenter doesn’t mean that all Jewish guys can build stuff.  Especially in my family.  Me, I can run a nonprofit.  Running pipe and wire is not in my skill set.  Most of the time, I am odd man out.

One day last summer, on an island near Seattle, there was a sound that instantly transformed me for one glorious moment into one of the boys.

It was a soft, crackly sound followed by a delighted giggle.  You hear it when a basketful of peanuts is being passed around the table and the shells are tossed on the sawdust floors of a barbeque shack known for its ribs, rowdy music and down home decor.

“You mean, I can just throw the shells on the floor?”  Sky asked excitedly, his arm ready to sweep the pile of peanut shells on to the floor.  Remy and I ate our way through the basket of peanuts laughing as we flung fistfuls of shells at our feet.  Seth caught all of the action on his Flip video.  ”This place is great!”

Was it the museums, the cultural events, the marketplace that my boys remember about Seattle? Not really.  Was it the fun we had spitting shells on the floor.  Absolutely.  We still talk about the ferry ride over to this island barbeque place with its unique menu and peanut shell policy.   For me, it was a precious point in our trip where we were all just boys, me too!  having a great time with each other.

As we were driving Remy out to Stonybrook, I thought about a day this summer that we were all together again, travelling around Queens, and I wondered if they remembered that day.  We settled into a local restaurant Remy and I discovered earlier this summer and ordered lunch.  Suddenly, all of us – Seth, Sky, Remy and I were laughing again as we ordered all kinds of combinations of bread, cheese and pasta.  Everything a lactose intolerant Asian like me should not be eating but hey, the foccacia was fabulous!  So good we ordered two.

Now I don’t pretend to understand how the universe of boys works, what makes them think one thing is stupid and another thing is legit, primo, fly, ill, wavy or crunk (Impressed?  I just learned that stuff means “cool”).

Note to self:  If you even think you know what is cool, they will cut you down to size and squish your head.

the boys – Sky, Remy & Seth

When such a moment arrives in your life, enjoy it.  I am forever grateful they let me in their world as one of the boys once in a while so we can share a few laughs and a lot of carbs together.

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