Superman has gas

My kids make me laugh. Earlier today, N~ was “eating” this sour candy that Sean got him yesterday. It is actually a liquid that you spray in your mouth. C~ walked up, popped out his pacifier, and stood there with his mouth open and his tongue sticking out. I watched this happen several times over the next half-hour or so. Each time, N~ would hold C’s head back, give his best aim, and squirt candy into C’s mouth. I suspect this is why C’s hair now contains sticky sections, somewhat akin to hair gel.

Later, as we were driving to meet Sean at his office, the boys were playing with toys in the car. N~ had brought along a Superman figure, and W~ had some other toy. Both were playing quietly. There is a certain section of the highway where you pass a waste treatment center. You always know when you get there. It smells. As the funk began to permeate our car, W~ broke the silence:

“Superman smells bad.”

N’s reply?

“Yeah, Superman has gas.”

Conversation over–back to playing quietly.

This, in and of itself, had Sean and I rolling when I told him about it this evening. I had no way of knowing there was more to the story, until Sean ‘fessed up. You see, about a month back, my family went through a really nasty intestinal bug. I won’t go into gory details, but we were all very sick, and my house may have been a somewhat-less-than-socially-acceptable place at times. Well, apparently, while Sean was in the throws of this illness, he was experiencing some of those socially unacceptable issues while putting the boys to bed. So he did what any responsible father would do. He blamed it on Superman. Specifically, on N’s three-foot superman doll/body pillow that his birth family gave him for his birthday this year. Apparently, weeks later, the boys will still ask daddy to “make Superman pass gas.”

At least I got some true girl time today (even though it was still with a man). I had a “getting to know you” meeting with the jeweler in my networking group. I spent close to three hours in this man’s store. He isn’t with a retail outlet, he is a real-deal bench jeweler. He designs and creates pieces from scratch, right there in his store. A true artisan. And he took me through the whole process: from 2D renderings, then 3D, wax carvings, and the real deal. It was wild to look at his bench and see all of these loose stones just scattered about, with several different pieces that he was working on laying out. Every girl’s dream. Sean probably thinks I’m nuts, I took about 45 minutes to tell him all about my meeting (of course, some of the time was to tell a story about a common acquaintance that this jeweler told me). It was just fascinating. And sparkly (maybe there is a little bit of a girly girl in me after all).


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