bonding

On Friday, Boo went on a daylong ski trip with the ecology club at school. That left Remy and me home alone for the day (because somehow, President's Day has turned into this 4-day weekend extravaganza. These kids have so many days off for holidays and inservice that they're in school until nearly July.)

But it's cool, though, spending time with one kid without the other. The dynamic totally changes. No sibling taunting, fighting or provoking.

Remy had suggested that we "have a bond" in his usual, wacky way of mangling the English language. So we went to Bell Lake to slide around on the ice.

I'm always a little awestruck at the joy kids get from the simplest things. Yelling "Watch this!" Remy hurled himself across the ice on his stomach a few times. "Watch this!" He found a branch and wacked at a melted spot in the ice. "Watch this!" He found a bigger chunk of wood and dropped it on the ice, making that eerie, echoey, hollow sound that floats on the air. He slid and slipped. He fell. He got up.

He was oblivious to my presence, other than as a spectator to his play.

Later he wanted to go to Taco Smell. He got 3 soft tacos. The gal at the window at the drive-thru told us to "have a wonderful day."

Wow, not just a nice day. A WONDERFUL day. Now, that really puts the pressure on. I had been having a perfectly adequate day, but here she is telling me I should have a WONDERFUL day. "Nice" is no longer good enough. Shit. What do I do now? Because clearly I haven't done enough to ensure the day's wonderfulness.

"Are you having a wonderful day, Remy?" I asked as we pulled away from the drive-thru. "Because the gal said we should have a wonderful day."

"Yeah. We're having a bond. And tacos."

I guess that's pretty wonderful.