The trouble with minding my own business is that #2 Son does not recognize my need for solitude. No, it is a constant attempt to alter my state of mind, and create mindless opportunities with conversations that lead me to utter despair.
While contemplating my next move for the day: do I nap, eat, do some work, wood carve etc., #2 Son flies into the house and lands at my side, bursting with comments and things to say and do. This is the same child that peed on my shoes 19 years ago in the birthing room, sending a yellow stream in a steady arc, aimed so as to miss his Mother while the doctor held him up to prove he was a boy.
Me: “Hey, how are things in the worker’s paradise?” (He’s a budding socialist)
He: “I need for you to do some work for me.”
Me: “What, how much does it pay?”
He: “If you want I can pay you when Mom comes home and gives me some money from my account.”
Me: “Well when I work, I expect to be paid for it. What is it you want me to do?”
He: “I need some Klesmic (sic) music.”
Me: “What???!”
He: Klesmic music-Don’t you know what Klesmic music is?”
Me: “No, why don’t you tell me.”
He: “Jewish folk music. I love the sound of it, the flute sounds so cool. I’m surprised you don’t know what that is. You look Jewish. I think you probably know more Jewish words than you do Italian, and all my friends when they come here think you are Jewish. You look Jewish, in fact, we all look Jewish!”
Me: “Why don’t you look for it?”
He: “I tried and can’t find it.”
Me: “Now how am I suppose to find it?”
He: “Go to Walmart and look under the $3 CD’s and you should find it cheap.”
To think I could have been napping.
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