My son and I have been spending 24 hours a day together for the past couple months. It’s been wonderful, but also occasionally a strain, because we are creatures of habit who are not used to spending so much time alone together. But here we are in a new place (Gozo, Malta), where we know very few people. So we’re stuck with one another.
And just when I could perhaps be forgiven for feeling a bit saturated by my beloved four-year-old’s constant presence, he reminded me of the beauty of language, and the fact that figures of speech don’t become dull and cliché until we are big. Much older than four.
A couple of days ago, Sebastian had a tummy ache and took one of those mega-naps in the afternoon that should have eaten into night-time sleep, but didn’t.
“You were feeling a bit under the weather there, weren’t you?” I said the next morning when he got up.
“Yeah,” he answered, “but now I’m starting to climb up the weather.”
He said this without skipping a beat.
I laughed, because there he was, suddenly in my imagination, scaling the side of a dark cloud, hair plastered to his head from rain, and happy.
Kindergarten starts Monday. And with it, a return to old habits.
[Photo: kevin dooley]
