30 June 2013

by jkatejohnston

Dear Max,

Yesterday Enzo said, “Today is the oldest six I’ll ever be.” And later, “When we go to Texas, I’ll be a very young seven-year-old.” (Enzo and I are going to Texas on Tuesday to cool off. Plus his cousin lives there.)

His party was at the pool from 6 to 8. Kind of late. Sophisticated, we thought. And since it was a hundred and seven degrees, perfect. It seemed so summery with all the kids up past their bedtimes, the sun finally going down, swimming in the warm half-light, cake, then swimming to wash off the cake.

Enzo handles these things with such aplomb. I would get over excited and then disappointed. He just seems to take pleasure as pleasure.

And I must report a coup. Teresa invited Enzo’s kindergarten teacher, the great Mrs. Korte, and she came! She was like a rock star, especially to the girls who shyly clustered around. Mrs. Korte told Teresa that she’d never been invited to a kids party before, and Teresa said afterward that she’s like the prettiest girl in the school who never gets asked out because everyone thinks she already has a date.

Poor Mrs. Korte. There’s no turning back now.

Today, a family day. More swimming, Japanese noodles, movie night. And of course opening presents first thing.


Yesterday morning, Enzo and I were at the American River. On a bluff top overlooking the water was a low, mostly horizontal branch worn smooth by many butts. Enzo pointed to some graffiti written in black marking pen. (What ever happened to carving in tree branches?) “What does that say?” It said: TO INITIATE TREEGASM, HOs N SLUTS SIT HERE.

“It says, ‘To initiate tree gas, sit here.'”


It felt lame to water down some of the best graffiti I’d ever seen. But I didn’t feel up to explaining a treegasm.