Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Brace yourselves

Dental braces, with a transparent powerchain, ...Image via Wikipedia

It's B-day for Elmer. Getting braces on.
The boy was so anxious he couldn't function.
Didn't bathe, go to school, brush teeth, or have normal conversation.
Thirty minutes before the appointment, I convinced him to swallow half a xanax.
(leftover from the not-so-long-ago-high-anxiety years.)
He's a cool customer now, stretched out in the ortho chair.
So next time, I'm taking a xanax, too.
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Friday, March 12, 2010

Certified

Tonight at the gun range, Elmer passed his field test.
Naturally he was first at the range. Itching to go, that's my boy.
He made it through four three-hour night classes, involving lots of sitting.
And he stayed focused, did his homework, was the star pupil. He was consistent, persistent, conscientious, focused, and proud. Hooray for him.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Einstein's Momma

Icarus, engraving by Hendrick GoltziusImage via Wikipedia

So Elmer, as I've recently posted, is doing verrry well.
Troubled-ly well.
Which is not a word. But gets at what I'm feeling.
First, the Jr High Principal introduced herself and told me what a pleasure it was to have Elmer in her school; "I've listened to him in class and he is profound."
If I hadn't been so stunned, I would have wept.
Last night, I drove Elmer to session 1 of his Firearms Safety Class, where he soared over the class like a witty Albert Einstein, displaying an encyclopedic knowledge of firearms, including their history and workings. He made smart, allegorical jokes, to boot.
I'd never seen this.
I've done this; it's who I am and how I operate. But Elmer and I have been in Holland, remember? Not among the eggheads at Harvard or the University of Chicago.
So praise the lord, right?
Here's where the troubled-ness comes in: he's not at Harvard or the University of Chicago. He's among kids who are struggling to remember the "Al McTarget" acronym of gun safety rules. So I'm afraid he's gonna be shot down like Icarus (who flew too close to the sun.)
I don't want to spoil his fun and he has a right to enjoy knowledge.
But I, who grew up without peers, out-of-place in a bad public school, know about the hits you can take when you fly too high.
Well, he's a big boy. I think he can take it. The question is, can I?
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