As I am sprawled comfortably on my sofa, watching a football game, stuffed and sleepy from a tasty Thanksgiving dinner, I thought I would avoid the hard work of writing a new story and share an old one from the 2002 holiday season. Elder would have been six years old…
Last night, as we drove to the Christmas dinner for my mom’s family, Elder rattled happily about the Junior Monopoly game he had received at another Christmas dinner on Saturday night. “Next time I see my cousins, I’m gonna bring my game. I think they would like to play it. But we’ll have to be careful with the baby. We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t swallow any of the pieces,” he chattered as we neared the house of some dedicated Republicans who had installed a large replica of the party symbol in their yard. “That’s what you have to do when you have two- or one-year-olds. Right, Mommy? If she swallowed one, they might have to take her to the hospital. Hey. I JUST SAW AN ELEPHANT! I sure would hate for them to have to take the baby to the hospital. Wouldn’t you, Mommy?” He paused before continuing suspiciously, “Why are you laughin’, Mommy?”
I told him I was just laughing for no reason, which he accepted as it has been an excuse I have offered before to prevent insult and he is coming to believe Mommy balances precariously on the edge of insanity anyway. And I tried to stop laughing. I did. But it was like trying not to think about an elephant.
Sorry. Really couldn’t resist.
ELEPHANT, ELEPHANT, ELEPHANT.
Really, really sorry. Just try not to think about it.