January 25, 2013
Dear Max, More notes on scraps of paper.
Enzo: You got butt in my face!
Teresa: You face in my butt!
Enzo: My punch is 20% powerful!
Enzo: (As I approach) It’s a rampaging butt from New York City! Watch out everybody! Get it? Butty?
Enzo: I’m going to make milk chocolate M&M’s.
Me: But they already are milk chocolate–that’s what they’re made of.
Enzo: No, milk chocolate.
And he gets out a knife, cutting board, cup and pastry brush and then cuts an M&M in half, brushes it with milk and eats it. He makes the next one for me. It is amazing.
Me: Pick up your shoes and put them by the door.
Enzo: Teresa said I don’t have to.
Me: Are you sure?
Enzo: I’m positive. Hair standing up, positive. Hair not standing up, not positive. (And he holds his hair straight up and then flattens it against his head to demonstrate, and ends with his hair standing up, positive.)
Enzo: I can climb at least ten feet higher than my own body weight.
Enzo: (Looking through his tackle box) I love my bobbers.
Enzo: The fancier the cheese, the stinkier the fart.
Enzo: I hate me when I was little. I was so cute. And cute isn’t even close to awesome.
Enzo: Did you know that I weigh fifty-nine pounds?
Me: Really? How do you know?
Enzo: I feel it in my blood.
Enzo: If a kid can’t handle another kid, Mrs. Korte can handle it, and if Mrs. Korte can’t handle it, Principal Horning can handle it, and if Principal Horning can’t handle it, the police can handle it, and if the police can’t handle it, the army can handle it, and if the army can’t handle it, they just have to shoot the kid.
Enzo: There’s a battle in my mind between good and evil. Whoever wins controls me.