This morning I have a sick little boy at home who has requested to watch Kung Fu Panda.
So I turn it on for him As controller of the universe, this is an easy task for me to fulfill. I start the video and go to the microwave to warm my cup of coffee evil powers.
He calls from the other room, “Mom, can you really do that?” (He is referring to the Dreamworks boy who floats with a bunch of balloons all the way up to the moon and then goes fishing.)
My eyes gleam at the opportunity. My mouth twitches as I try not to get too excited. “No honey. You can only get to the moon if you are an astronaunt with a spaceship.” I
logically answer his question.s successfully squelch his dreams.
Very excited he protests, “But he floated up there.”
“No honey, he’s just a cartoon and you have to have rocket power.” Microwave buzzes and I retrieve my steaming cup of
My sickly four year old jumps up on the couch as life returns to his broken body “Holy cow Momma, look at this guy.”
I return to find a Kung Fu Panda version of the before mentioned Dreamworks boy who scales the clouds with his Kung Fu abilities to fish from the moon. My mind begins to formulate a logical, “Clouds are made of water and though they look solid you could not actually ‘hold on’ to them enough to really climb up to the moon. Plus after you get to a certain part of the atmosphere, oxygen gets too thin and…” But I realize that might be over his four year old head so I simply say, “He’s a cartoon too honey. You can’t…you ca--, ca--, ca—“ I look at my cup of
coffee dream killer. I choke and gag on the words. A tiny voice inside of me screams. It is my own voice as a child and it rises above all else.
What the heck are you doing? (okay more like the 15 year old voice inside of me but hey, it’s still a child)
“Scratch that.” I tell the four year old. “You get to the moon any way you want to. I think I’ll put springs on my feet and bounce up there.” And with that, I killed the Imagination Destroyer with one tall tale and went back to sipping my cup of coffee.
When did I forget to be a child? Hello, am I not a fiction writer? I can’t believe I seriously did that. I really need to give this ADULT thing a reality check.
That’s all for now my loves. Wish me a throw-up free Monday.