Come, Mommy

Friday, November 04, 2005

The House-Park-Rock

Liam is quite the rock afficionado. He has a small coffee can, thoughtfully donated by Gran-Gran, that houses his collection of pebbles. He picks up these rocks on our frequent visits to local parks, and woe befall the adult who manages to lose one of his treasures before arriving home.

His favorite rock is about the diameter of a half dollar, and maybe a centimeter thick. It looks like sandstone to my uneducated eye, and he dubbed it The House-Park-Rock because he found it in a playhouse in the park. Very literal, my son.

Yesterday, tragedy struck. The House-Park-Rock broke in half as he dropped it into the can. He burst into tears, picked up the two pieces, and cried, "Come, Mommy. House-Park-Rock broke. No two House-Park-Rocks. No-no-no. Broke. Broke. Broooooke. Come, Mommy. Come." (I was sitting beside hime the whole time.) If there's anything that makes my heart break, it's tears on my son's face, especially when accompanied by chin quivering.

I am pleased to report that after several late-night glue trials, along with prayers to the gods of adhesive chemistry, House-Park-Rock has been restored to his former splendor. (Did I mention House-Park-Rock is male? No. Well, now you know.) Liam is beaming - "ONE House-Park-Rock now! Only One! Fixed! Fixed!"

What's keeping me up at night now is that in a few years, Liam will experience problems that I won't be able to fix with space-age epoxies. Will someone please tell me how to keep him little? Forever?

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