My son has always had a special sense about him. I know that every mother says this about their children, though. But seriously, he has always thought deeply, reads things and understands on a level that always shocks me. I started to type some of the amazing things he did as early as two, but found myself hitting the backspace button even trying to describe it.
The other night we were eating dinner, and one of the side dishes was white rice. As he kept asking for more and more servings, I commented that he must have lived in Asia in a former life, since he loves rice so much. Yes, I did, and I always wore orange, mum. Mr. C and I both look at each other, simultaneously imagining this:
But then we just dismissed it and didn't think about it much further. I mean, we really don't believe in reincarnation. Anyway, even if we did, how would we really really know for sure about such things? But then yesterday, while shopping for school supplies, I mentioned that we should also buy a new mouse pad for the computer. I told my son that he could choose from the dozens on the shelf. He immediately selected one and said: I want the one of the yin and yang. OK, so now this is getting kind of creepy, right? I mean what 6 year old boy would choose this over the ones with outer space, myriad animals, cartoon characters, etc.?! What six year old even knows the term yin and yang! But then again, he couldn't be a more yin to a Buddhist monk's yang.
My son sometimes asks how he will know what he wants to be when he "grows up". To which I assure him that he need not worry about this now. But he informed me that he has good choices:
a. artist
b. substitute teacher (they don't have to work all the time, leaving free time for computer games and other such fun, he tells me)
c. DJ ("I want to spin records"...exact words)
or
d. Jedi Master
Hard call.
Now I have a question for you: Is it wrong to find humour in the Obituaries? I regularly read them out of my morbid sense of curiosity, and hey, it might be the first and only time they make it in the news, so the least I can do is read about them, right? (Feeling guilt for even admitting this). While reading them today I laughed out loud. Mr. C looked over at me and asked What's so funny?
The obituaries.
Silence.
And the look.
I find humour in bizarre and small things sometimes (OK often). This is what amused me about the particular choice of words that the dearly beloved had to say about their recently departed(among other things, of course):
"....She loved to play Crib and always enjoyed a hamburger and a Pepsi."
The thing is...this made me laugh in a good way, not a mocking way. It made me think about the kind of wonderfuland fun person she likely was and how she probably enjoyed the simple things in life.
And I can forgive her for being a Pepsi fan. Coke (Diet) all the way...
P.O.Box 3038 57 Victoria Street, SW1H London. My Good Friend, I am Mr Wilson Patel,Can i trust you? In order to transfer out £12.500.000.00 {Twelve Million, Five Hundred Thousand British Pounds} from our Bank. I have the courage to look for a reliable and Honest Person who will be capable for this Important Business Transaction, believing that you will never let me down either now or in Future. The owner of this account is Mr. David Hagen is a foreigner and the Manager Of petrol chemical service, a chemical engineer by Profession and he died since 1990. The account has no other beneficiary and my Investigation proved to me as well that his company does not know anything about this account. I want to transfer this money into a safe foreign account abroad but I Don't know any foreigner, I know that this message will come to you as a surprise as we don't know ourselves before, but be assured that it is real and A Genuine business.I believe in God that you will never let me down in this transaction, at the conclusion of this business, you will be giving 30% of the total amount, 70% will be for me. I look forward to your earliest reply by email for more details. Warm Regards, Mr.Wilson Patel
Dear Mr. Patel, I am not to be trusted. I am neither courageous nor honest. Were you to transfer the funds of the dead (or still dying?) Mr. Hagen, I would swiftly take the full amount and send it immediately to Greenpeace for their oil spill contingency fund. Certainly you should know (as I am your Good Friend) that I would never accept money from a petrochemical "service".
I hope that my decision does not dissuade you from your belief in God, as I am most definitely letting you down in this transaction. Warm Regards to you, Cathy
(Having ridden the wave of a Cat. 2, I can not begin to fathom riding out a Cat.4 hurricane. My mind is on Jamaica. It must be eerily silent, with the power having been completely shut off there. Let's hope for the best.)
The woman you see in this video is being detained somewhere in China, along with two other Canadians. Their whereabouts are presently unknown. This is her blog, which is presently being updated by the Students for a Free Tibet organization.
I'm not a lumberjack or a fur trader.
I don't live in an igloo, eat blubber or own a dogsled.
I don't know Jimmy Suzie or Sally from Canada,
Although I'm certain they're very nice.
I have a prime minister, not a president,
I speak English and French, not American.
And I pronounce it 'about' not 'a-boot.'
I can proudly sew my country's flag on my backpack.
I believe in peacekeeping, not policing;
Diversity, not assimilation.
And that the beaver is a proud and noble animal.
A tuque is a hat, a chesterfield is a couch.
And it's pronounced zed. OK? Not zee. Zed.
Canada is the second-largest land mass,
the first nation of women's hockey
and the best part of North America.
My name is Cathy and I am Canadian.
