My prayer for you

A sad commentary on my values

The other day I was driving somewhere and I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see Raphael writing something in the condensation on the window.

Immediate digression: it has been AMAZINGLY cold here lately. The high today was something punishing like six degrees. There is condensation on on every window everywhere, frost on doors, and ice filling in all the spaces inbetween. Our front door froze shut this evening. The little boy from down the street stopped by to see if one of the boys could play, and I couldn't open the door. I stood there, yanking on it as hard as I could, thinking oh dear, I've had a stroke. But no, there was just a layer of ice, sealing me inside. Incidentally, Clay likes to sleep with the window open every night. Oh, but surely not THIS night, you're thinking, not when it's so cold? But I just heard him wrench the bedroom window open with a CRACK and mutter, "No frozen window's going to stop me."

And I'm still sleeping with him. THAT, my friends, is true love. /digression.

I get annoyed with the boys for writing on the windows all the time, because never once, in the entire history of our lives together, has a boy of mine looked at a window, all be-smeared and mucked up by grubby little fingers, and said, "Oh, my. What a mess. Let me just fetch the windex and restore the luster here!" No, they just add layer upon layer of smudge and grossness, until I find myself driving around in a van with windows that make the world look like a closeup of an impressionist paining. So at the next stoplight I turned around to snark at Raphael, and I read what he wrote.

"You jerk's," it said, in very tidy letters (Raphael has the handwriting of a scholar or a psychopath). He was chortling over his words with SUCH DELIGHT that I assumed it must be a message for his brothers, and he was concocting an elaborate plan for revealing it to them. I pondered for a moment all the reasons he should not have written this message. There was the mess on the window, as previously complained about. And then, naturally, there is the fact that it's not actually nice or constructive to go around calling people jerks. Where to start? What should I say? I know from experience that I only have about a two-sentence window of attention in any given lecture.

And so of course I led with the issue that was bothering me most, with the greatest urgency.

"Raphael Joseph," I said sternly, "you do NOT need an apostrophe in 'jerks.' It is neither a possessive nor a contraction."

He studied it for a moment, then nodded and rubbed out the apostrophe. The light changed and I drove on, far more content than I should have been.



I love you.

That is all.


Oh, dear... I've only just begun reading your blog, and already I know that we would be the best of friends in real life. Except, perhaps, that I'm so behind the times (as shown by the fact that I've only just begun reading your blog) that you may not want to be seen with me.

Thank you for the laugh into my coffee this morning!


What Mir said...




You are the bomb!




that was the first thing that came to my mind as well. Overuse of apostrophe - not good. Calling brothers jerks - not horrible and completely secondary!


and you see.... this is why I think I would adore you forever if we actually knew each other beyond comment-land.


Hooray! Another blow in the war on inappropriate apostrophe useage?

I heart you, too.


Love this.


I am the mom of 3 boys and you rock!


I always say, Choose your battles.
Good choice, Mom!

rb in LA

correct response. ;-)


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