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 I caught her cheating at UNO. When my back was turned she had taken several valuable cards out of the deck and hid them. “Don’t look, okay?” she said when it was her turn. “Close your eyes until I tell you to open them.” I squinted, and spotted her secret stash.
A teachable moment, as they say. GOD SENDS CHEATERS TO HELL! No, that require too much explanation. What’s hell? It’s a place where there’s dessert every minute – hot pudding forced in your ears! For all eternity! And it’s tapioca! I explained that I was disappointed in her, that cheating was wrong because it was unfair and sneaky, it made you feel bad when you won, and no one wanted to play with cheaters. That about covered it. Understand.
“Yes.” Pause. “Mommy says you cheat.”
Oh ho. So we called Mommy to see exactly what she’d said about that. As expected, she was quoted out of context, and inaccurately as well. But my wife will not release the transcript or videotape, so we will have to rely on eyewitness accounts. Which conflict.
You know, I’d start out with a more effervescent anecdote, but we were home all day. Gnat was goopy this morn with a honking cough, so I kept her out of school. She curled up on the sofa by the fire and watched TV, huddled under a blanket. But she rallied later, as usual; she has an iron constitution, that one. One remarkable moment: I was reading a book on the New York School (reasons to follow tomorrow) and it was sitting on the kitchen table at lunch. She looked at the spine, and said: “New York School.” Previous examples of reading I’ve been able to explain away by context, but there was no context available here. This is good news, I suppose, but draws us ever closer to the day when I won’t be able to write about her.
And the news of the day? I’m sure there’s some. Somewhere. Here, it snowed. I wrote a long response to something that seems rambling and predictable right now; I can either write the Joe Ohio story or lecture you on how I feel about the 1920s vs the 1970s. As if that hasn’t come up before. Let me save that for tomorrow. Apologies, but I am still working on the next book, and when I do have time to write for the website, well, Joe's life seems more interesting than mine.
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Perm link: here.
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