Learning some summer lessons.

Every day of this summer it seems I am faced with another element of boy-hood that is so very different than the girl-hood I knew. I share with you a few of my "lessons":

Never drink anything without first asking what else has been in it. Last night, for example, I fixed myself a big glass of cold water. I took one drink out of it. Turner came out of the bathroom with his pet lizard (it is plastic). I go to the kitchen to finish getting some dishes put away. I return to the living room. I grab a drink of water. Then I sit down in the turquoise chair and it is wet. "Hey. Why's this chair wet?" I look down at my water, the only liquid around. "Were you thirsty buddy?" "No." He answers just as he buries his face into the pillow and giggles. I look around and see water is splattered on the rug and on the table. "Well, what happened?" "I wanted to see if my lizard would float in your cup too." "Ah." I mean a plastic lizard that has been everyone from here to there probably doesn't have that many germs on it, right? I don't worry. A few minutes later it occurs to me that I might want to get further information. "So where else did the lizard float?" "In the toilet." Nice.

Boogers are inevitable no matter how disgusting. Many of you know that I can handle some gross things better than others. Things having to do with the nose, however, are beyond my abilities of social politeness. I've been known to step out of lines because a kid (not MY kid) around me was digging and then using hands to touch other stuff. I've also gagged so much while standing in line that a mother accused me of being rude (I really couldn't help it. Her daughter was, eeeewww I mean her nose business, it was gross). So when Turner has his finger up there, as kids tend to do, I always gag and then remind him about the purpose of tissues. He is getting much, much better about taking the extra effort to use the tissue. One day as we were getting settled for nap, he brought his finger to the nose and I asked him, "Why not use a tissue?" "Because." Because he didn't want to get up and get it. So I did. Then I asked a question I never should have asked, "I mean, what do you do with them when you get them? Where do you put them?" there was the obvious answer and then, "They stick pretty good to the wall behind your bed."

Be prepared at any moment to be knocked to the ground. Between Star Wars and TMNT, Turner is a master fighter. He is intense in his strategy and precise in his description of what his opponent should do in response to particular moves. "When I do this then Mom you fall to the ground and wait for me to stab you in the eye." Sure. Me trying to fall to the ground is never easy or pretty, but it is funny sometimes. When I fall to the ground unintentionally of course it is scary. Sometimes in our play Turner will get the best of me and I'll trip over a body or a light saber or just over myself and sprawl out in the middle of the park, in the parking lot, and (most recently) out our front door. Turner laughs and shouts his success. As long as there isn't blood involved, I do my best to play it off. I am always the bad guy no matter how much I protest that there can be two good guys and we can work together...I've never had legs and hips so bruised in my life. Each day is a new adventure of how can mom be reminded of her inability to bounce.

If you are quiet you can hear the brain tick. On the way to swim lessons Thursday, Turner thought of a new word. It sounds like aternity. uh-ter-nity. But, it isn't Eternity. He took nearly ten minutes to explain to me the nuances of this word. Defining it. Using it in sentences. Then telling me I should teach it to my students that day (which I did). Basically, aternity is a firing in the brain that tells you things that you wouldn't otherwise know. I connected it to a conscience. He clarified that it wasn't a voice, it was an electricity and it teaches you things more than right or wrong. It tells stories like in books and it makes the eyes see special things. Sometimes you can see this happening when you look into a person's ears he says.