Inspiration

We didn’t want to be late — not for the Curriculum Evaluation to qualify us for Black Belt training. We’re not always on the ball for evening classes, after school and work and whatnot, but Saturday morning was an entirely different beast.

As we wrangled our oversized karate duffel bags into the car, I caught a whiff of something. My sense of smell has changed over the past several months (presumably due to The Change Of Life), so gross things like skunks, farts, cat shit, and BO all smell the same to me now.

“…I think Dad left a fart in the car overnight,” I ventured.

Connor paused, considering. “Yeah,” he agreed. Then, “It’s the Fart of Inspiration!”

So, thanks, Dad, for wishing us good luck with your lingering fart. I’d like to think it helped motivate us through our two-hour test!

That’s My Boy

It’s a typical Sunday morning: Connor’s in the La-Z-Boy, playing on his tablet — sounds like Angry Birds at the moment — and I’m sitting on the couch, taking care of random stuff on my laptop while doing laundry.

“Mom! Wanna watch these piggies go into orbit?”

Connor jumps out of the recliner and beelines for the couch, bumping the “vintage” coffee table with the wobbly leg, sloshing some coffee out of my cup.

We both freeze and stare at the coffee puddle for a moment. It’s not bad — just a splash. I smirk at him.

“As soon as you grab some paper towels!”

He tosses his tablet back into the chair and runs into the kitchen. I pick up my sewing notebook, which now has a quarter-sized coffee stain on the current page. No biggie. What little coffee has pooled on the page drips off as Connor returns with a few paper towels.

We blot up the spill. Nothing’s ruined, no one’s mad, no worries. I tell Connor I’ll take care of throwing the wet paper towels away in a minute, and he goes back to the chair to get his tablet.

“Hey, Mom,” he deadpans as he walks back to sit next to me, “wanna watch your coffee go into orbit?”