I Beg of You

by jkatejohnston

10 September 2014

Dear Max,

 Me: “Do you want a blanket?”

Enzo: “My comforter always comforts me.”


“I have something I really want to do—often. Please. I beg of you. It’s look at pictures on Teresa’s computer. It’s so rare.”


“If no one had invented school, life would be a better contest. Kids would have to rely on their own smarts.”


“Who wants to hear a wisecrack?”


On being told to pick up all his fishing tackle, especially the hooks: “That could be a gruesome tale of a dog with a hook in its mouth.”


“Mom, can I please have just one second of your time? Can you read me this one page of sturgeons?”


On going to a friend’s house to swim: “I’m looking forward to doing six belly flops. Make that twenty. Make that fifty.”


Enzo: “Who is the Chief of Police of Sacramento?”

Me: “I don’t remember. The sheriff is Scott Jones.”

Enzo: “How can Sacramento have a sheriff? It’s a city.”

(Long discussion of the difference between a sheriff and a policeman, all based on The Great Brain (sheriff) and Encyclopedia Brown (police) and my dim understanding of Sacramento’s unincorporated areas.)

Me: “I know Scott Jones because before he ran for sheriff, he was a lawyer, like me. But I’ll never be a sheriff.”

Enzo: “A girl can’t be a sheriff.”

Me: “There are lots of girl sheriffs.”

Enzo: “I thought you had to have a walrus mustache. A small one at least.”


Enzo: “Can I please, I beg of you, I beg, I beg, I beg of you, I know you will probably say no, but I’ll give you half a dollar and so many begs—”

Me: “What?”

Enzo: “Can I sleep in the living room and make a little bed?”