Mr. Freeze and Spider-Man have teamed up. They’re off to rescue Darth Vader, who has been kidnapped. Much screaming, and the sounds of bullets ring through the dining room. The Boy leaps onto his scooter and races to the play-room, desperate to save Luke’s father.
My daughter’s house is being remodeled, and once the new floors are in, there will be no more scooter or skateboard in the house. Frankly, I can live with that, but on the other hand, scootering about the place does keep him busy when it’s too cold and rainy to play outside. June in Snohomish can be quite chilly and damp.
Even so, I just find myself cringing as The Boy flies by the cherry-wood dining room table perfectly avoiding nailing a chair, cutting the angle fine. He narrowly misses every obstacle in as professional a manner as any pro athlete.
You would think the furniture would be a scarred and wretched mess, but it’s not. The Boy has talent. I’ve gotten to the point it only bothers me when he sails too close to the dog. Neko glares at him, but for the most part she tolerates it too.
The whole point of this mental meandering on my part is how amazing I think his imagination is. The Boy’s creativity is non-stop, and it never ceases to amaze me. He tells me fabulous fibs and swears they’re the truth, then admits it’s a story he would like to write. “Or maybe I’ll make it a movie. Like Star Wars or something.”
That makes Grandma happy!
If only Grandma had that sort of imagination!
Here I am, with four heroes about to embark into the snowy north, and I’ve no idea what to do with them. They’re too smart to get frostbite, and that’s really not so glamorous to write about.
Handsome Hero limped, wincing with each step. His frost-bitten toes were swollen and painful. He worried that gangrene would set in, and he’d have to amputate his own foot.
Although…an occasional amputation could liven things up a bit.
Sharpen your sword, Handsome.