The past 24 hours,with big men around the globe doing scary things, have brought me two encounters with sheer joy via small boys.
First there was Jax, whose dad has some extraordinary art in a show just opened at The Barber Lounge in San Francisco (Sam Lamott, emerging artist, you saw it first here. See illustration left, for proof.) Lots of emerging artists, great vibes, free beer……. but the big news of the day was that Jax had floated on his back. Jax is four, dark-eyed, camera-shy and equipped with a mop of furry black hair that, unfortunately, is not available for stroking by friends of his grandmother. But he will talk about floating.
“On your BACK? That’s scary.”
“Have you been floating on your front very long?’
“Yes, but not on my back.”
“Well, which do you like better?”
Sparkle in the dark eyes. “On my back. You can look up and watch.”
The next day I was pulling out of the driveway of our former house, where I’d stopped to visit with some old neighbors. A small person emerged from the car parking in front and a voice of utter delight said, “I lost a tooth!”
It was Finn, whom I have greatly missed since our move six months ago. Finn is seven, elfin-handsome and bright, endowed with a dimple that is going to spell trouble for a LOT of girls in another 10 or 12 years. He was holding the tooth out for inspection. The gap where the tooth had earlier resided — “I pulled it out in the car!” — was also proudly on display with a small-boy grin.
“Where’s Bud?” Finn asked — my husband is also a Finn fan.
“He’s at home at our new place. But I’ll tell him you said Hi.”
“Tell him I lost a tooth!”
Now THOSE are times worth celebrating. Maybe the tooth will, as I told Finn I hoped, bring big bucks. And how can things be that bad in a world where you can still float on your back and watch?