Tag Archives: story

Perfect Nothingness

Beauty in the day: My BFF relayed this story about her 3-year-old niece:

Samara: Mommy, are you thinking what I’m thinking?
Mommy: I don’t know. What are you thinking about?
Samara: I’m not thinking about anything.

*at this point, Mommy confirms that they are, indeed, thinking of the same thing.

The Leap From Spanish to Irish is Sweet

Beauty in the day: okay, so it wasn’t Spanish-Gaelic after all.

More on that later.

So young singer gets permission to come to the office, because he wants to sing his song for me. He comes into the office and waits for my attention.

“Hi Friend, what’s up?” Friend hesitates and then regales me with a story of how his nose was bleeding the night before and has never stopped. A conference with the school nurse determined that “never stopped” is equal to “bled for about a minute straight, then stopped, and then subject goes back to sleep.” We took a look at his perfectly formed and perfectly healthy nose, and sent him back to class.
His teacher later asked if we got to hear the song. Answering in the negatory, she was amused, as that had been the purpose of his office visit.
After school (once he had managed to pilfer some pretzels from the nurse’s stash), he came and stood in front of my desk. I decided to meet the elephant in the room head-on.
“Friend! What happened to the Spanish-Gaelic song you were supposed to sing for me?”

“For the last time, it’s IRISH-Gaelic!”

Note: in this particular post, “for the last time” is equal to “this is indeed the very first time I have ever mentioned this”.

“Well, Irish-Gaelic makes so much more sense! I think I can easier imagine this song now. I think you should sing it for me.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he shared in a hushed tone, “I didn’t sing it because I got embarrassed a little.”

“Well, I can certainly understand that. It takes bravery to do some things. But it might give you some courage if you remember that you have sung for me before. And very well, I might add.”

He looked dubious, but as I reminded him about the “Blue Skies” song, his face lit up. I was in mid-sentence when he began his recital. It started out with some special oohing and ahhing, and culminated with poetry about the north and the south.

“Wow, Friend! That was great! Was that from the Hobbit?”

“For the last time, it was from “Song of the Sea.”

(You and I are sharing one of those knowing looks right now)

There was some other information about a selkie (had to look that up) that turns into a seal, and suddenly the van had arrived to take him to Boys and Girls Club.

“Okay bye!” He called, and then, “I’ll try to sing another one sometime!”