Do You Mind?
17-13 April 2014
Enzo: “Duncan’s been very nice to all of us since we’ve been home.”
Me: “I guess he missed us.”
Duncan was sitting with both front paws tucked under his chest and his handsome head held up, looking around.
Enzo: “He often looks like a king.”
As I get dressed, Enzo walks by, glances my way: “Really?” This in the same tone as his new favorite expression, “Do you mind?” which he uses in a wide variety of situations, including when he has the least right to, like when I’m taking a nice crap and he walks in on me, waving his hand in front of his face: “Do you mind?”
Enzo wants to get a book from the library to learn how to clean quail. And a few nights ago, when I snuggled him down at night he said, “The kind of cooking I’m interested in is birds—quail, chickens, even turkeys. I also want to hunt small game.” I blame The Great Brain, where they go on fishing and hunting trips and papa cooks the quail by placing it, feathers and all, on the hot coals.
“No matter how much you yell and scream at me, I will not finish my Go-Gurt. You can’t force me.” Do I need to say that I don’t even scold Enzo? Sometimes Teresa does, and I’m in awe of her ability to throw a scare into him. I’m like, honey, you are so powerful.
“Kate, you’re going to be sleeping in paradise. I made it all arranged. There are two blankets and two pillows on each side.” And he shows me how he has made up our bed, just as described but also with one very large croc (Saltie), one smaller croc (Freshie), a shark, a salmon, and a three-foot-long fish from IKEA that Enzo says is just a made up fish.
At the dinner table, talking to Teresa: “Your butt crack smells like—” and here he raises he arms in a dramatic shrug and crosses his eyes “—Heaven!” We all get a chuckle out of the surprise ending and then he says, “I mean, Dead People!”
“Did you know that crocs are even lazier than cats?”
“I want to do the following experiment. Under cover of darkness take black food coloring and put it on a piece of gum.”