"Microscope, not my criss cope", I say.
"So you don't have one?" he presses, hoping against hope that I have a mi-cros-cope here at home, stowed away, until now unseen, like buried treasure.
I'm confused, but I go on; "a telescope lets you see things far, far, far away, like the stars and the planets. A microscope shows you things up close, like cells and germs, and specs n stuff." The longer my explanation the dumber I sound. We discuss magnification and then he asks again, still microscopically optimistic, if I do actually have that criss cope...
I don't want to break it to him, don't feel like correcting him.
I have come to so greatly cherish the mispronunciations, miscommunications, missed concepts, misguided missives of all kinds. They are fewer and far between, as my kids grow older and for the most part wiser.
Despite the lateness and the fact that we are in my bed, hunkered down together, somehow we continue to talk more about things in outer space. It's late and there are these little, puffy, half moons sitting right beneath his sleepy eyes. She chimes in. She begins to list for us all the planets. She gives detail about whether they are solid or gas. I'm always pleasantly astonished by her.
Jupiter is my favorite I tell them. This leads to discussion on why and how come and what for. Somewhere in-between my telling them that I like the name Jupiter and that it sounds as if it might be a nice place, I mention going to sleep again. But, we've not finished our planet list... on she goes and eventually she says, "Uranus".
They are not too young to find the undeniable humor in this name. Hysterical.
He adds, "To see Uranus you may want to use a my criss cope, not a telescope".
Hysterical.
When they go overnight, away from me, from the dogs, from their toys, from the stuff here, I always think I'll be so productive. I'll run dogs, pick up toys, deal with stuff. I'll edit something I once tried to write, work out, read, get in my closet and try on every sundress, every pair of questionable sandals, every single-ingle, retired bikini - scrutinize each and every article of whatnot. But... all I end up doing is just mostly walking round the house, looking for signs of them, till eventually I go outside, where I sit. I watch the sky, wait to see what stars might come, what shape and size the moon may be.
I'm really not so great at alone time. That reality is magnified.
On the other hand...
I am much better at sharing then I ever dreamed I could be.
