Little Bug

Like me, you believe in the power of the written word. When you want something with all of your clarity and conviction, you make me write it down.

Christmas List

A skull

Battleship

A bear with a smiling face and arms that go like this (drawing of hugging arms)

Some plastic bones

There are several of these, all slightly different, all over the house. You bring them up regularly to make sure I still have them, and sometimes you make me read them back to you. “Mama, what does this one say?” And then you listen and smile, remembering with satisfaction each thing and silently agreeing with your own good taste. As if reading the words on the page were as good as the thing itself. Lucky for me. For most things, it’ll have to be.

If we make a deal, which happens a lot because I am too tired to hold any kind of line, you want it verified in print. “Mama, write that I get to watch power rangers in the morning.” I write it, date and sign it. You don’t make me sign them, but I like the legalishness of it. I add what I can. In the morning you will find the note and even though you can’t read you point to the paper. “Mama, remember? I get to watch power rangers.”

I don’t know if this is more about remembering or more about needing some sureness in your life, something you can count on. Not an old idea I might change my mind about later (and if I do, who do you have to go to for an appeal?), something you can see and hold in your hand. This. This is real. It says so right here.

Like me, you also love money – what it looks like, what it feels like, the coins in your hands, the pictures of faces and places stamped in metal. You don’t really understand it, but you know it’s important. I’ve explained to you before how everything costs money, even your school, even parking the car. When I say it out loud it sounds ridiculous. Really? Yes, really. Even parking the car. One day you decided to make some money for something you wanted. “Mama, write, ‘this is some money’ right here.” And then you added a little squiggle to the paper. I guess that was supposed to be the picture of the president. Being convincing not your biggest concern. “Mama, write it again.” By the end we had several pieces of money. You looked pleased. I didn’t bother to go into how making money is slightly more complicated than this. Like most everything, your version makes more sense to me than the real one.