…it’s Aliens vs Zombies
The word ‘day’ is feminine in French, Noah’s mother tongue, so now and then it seeps into his English.
“Yeah, she was Monday.”
“So, yeah, we did a Quiddich game, like in Harry Potter except that we didn’t fly.”
At $7 a day, flying is too much to expect from his Day Camp.
“Then on Monday we like do computer games, then a treasure hunt. And then the morning is over. Oh yeah, I forgot we have a snack.”
“They give you a snack?”
“Yeah, rice cakes, you know the puffy kind? Yeah and applesauce.”
“Then at lunch…one of the animators started a food fight but not a real one, we threw around fake plastic food. It was hilarious dad. i got a banana in the back of the head.”
The slip, slide across the frozen park to reach his Day Camp takes about 40 minutes one way. He started talking the moment I locked our door and has not paused.
How does he breathe?
“Yeah, then I spent an hour and a half in the pool and oh, oh, dad, there was this crazy old man who jumped in all naked and then they couldn’t get him out because he was old but, boy, could he swim. He went around and around and i could see his thingy all out and floating. Gross huh?”
“I guess. Though if he’d had a bathing suit, his thingy would still have been with him in the water. Doesn’t really change much.”
“You’re too weird dad. It changes everything because I saw it! That’s what’s gross.”
This from the kid whose been trying to get me to buy the Garbage Pail Kids…ugly plastic characters, found in the garbage cans and with evocative names like Moldy Pizza or Vomit Kid.
He runs and slides a few yards across an ice patch.
“Today she’s Tuesday, so it’s….woahhhh!!”. The icy patch hits a slope and he goes sliding down, arms flailing. He finally stops on a gravel patch.
“Sooooooo coooool….see that dad? Awesome! I like went flying.”
Yesterday I did pretty much the same but I landed on my ass… today’s tender left buttock is proof.
“Dad, what time is it?”
“Let’s hurry dad, because today she’s Tuesday. And Tuesday is Aliens vs Zombies and yesterday the animator said that today I was on the Zombie’s side. So let’s hurry because I looooove being a zombie.”
And I’m out of breath just listening to him.
He hops and skips ahead on a dry part of the path. Then doubles back.
“So, to finish, dad.”
Finish? Since when does he finish? Oh joy! Will there be silence?
“Tomorrow, it starts, the day, you know… yeah, it starts with a big snack because after it’s the pirate game.”
No! No silence!
“And you’ll be the kidnapped damsel held for ransom!”
“Nooooooo. Be serious, dad, this is my schedule, you know?”
“I’m a pirate, for sure.”
“Do they provide the eye patch?”
I am paying $7 a day, after all.
“We already have one at home, remember dad? When it was the day at school where we could get costumed like we wanted? Yeah, I was a pirate and and we made an eye patch and, the best, you know what it is? it’s that I know exactly where it is.”
“Ouufff, I’m relieved.”
He throws me a look. Shakes his head.
“Dad, dad, sometimes you think you’re funny but you’re not.”
How far would he go if I grabbed him by the collar and the seat of the pants and slid him across the ice like a curling stone? That would be funny.
“Yeah, so to finish…”