(RJ wanders into the room, uncharacteristically ‘down’)
RJ: I have a problem…
RJ: … I’m trying to make my light saber work and I don’t know where to get plasma. It needs to be super hot and I’m going to need a lot. Maybe even a googol of it…
RJ: … I’ve got everything else working except for that.
After a month of singing along to the soundtrack in the car, as well as learning about it in music class, Sunday afternoon finally arrived. Grammy and Poppa took us to see the full production of Cats (Australian cast).
We all loved it. Fantastic show!
Oh well I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as Magical Mr. Mistofelees!
(while washing hands before dinner)
RJ: How do you get tapeworms?
Dad: From eating tapeworm eggs. They hatch in your intestines and the tapeworms start living there. That’s one reason why we wash hands before we eat.
RJ: Where do you get tapeworm eggs from?
Dad: They’re in poo from a person or animal that has tapeworms. If it gets on your shoes, or someone else doesn’t wash their hands properly they can get transferred around. If they end up on your hands and you get them in your food, you get tapeworms.
RJ: So when the eggs that go in the toilet hatch, way down in the drains, the tapeworms must be saying, “Oh help! Where am I? This is not right!? Oh no! This is not the right place!”
(while eating dinner)
RJ: And those monkeys were evil…
Mum: Monkeys aren’t good or evil RJ. They’re animals; they just are.
(RJ thinks for a moment)
RJ: Not super monkeys. Super monkeys are always good!
(5:30 am, the house is silent, in darkness; a pair of eyes pop open…)
RJ: Mom?
RJ: Excuse me, Mom?
Mom: Mrph.
RJ: Next year? For my birthday? Can I have a kraken piñata?
Mom: Mrph.
RJ: Please?
Mom: Mrph.
RJ: Please? Say yes.
Mom: Yes.
RJ: It has to have tentacles.
Mom: Uh huh.
RJ: And make sure it has suckers on it.
Mom: Sure thing.
(Puts pillow over her head and tries to pretend that RJ isn’t really up for the day.)
This morning, RJ was up at 5am. I managed to get him to leave us alone until 5:30am.
After starting on his breakfast, he looked up and said, “I’m not the baby of the family any more!”
You’re right mate. Happy birthday! Congratulations on four fantastic years.
Happy birthday mate!
PS: You need to stop listening to your sister quite so much. You haven’t been the baby of the family for a long time now.
