Dear Kid,

Any requests for dinner this week?

Nope.

Anything you don’t make yourself so you want to have before you go?

Not really.

Chicken? Fish? Grilled cheese?

Whatever you want is fine with me.

Apple cake or honey cake?

Anything you want, Mom.

Some people would assume you are the Most Easy Going Kid on the planet. (You’re not, I checked.)

Other people might assume you are singularly focused on your phone and had no idea what I said. (You probably were buried in your phone, but you surfaced enough for the conversation. I checked.)

Still others might assume that you are doing your best to drive your Beloved Mother crazy. (You weren’t. You have other tricks for doing that.)

You were just being you. And you honestly had no preference for whether we had fish or chicken.

Which was fine except for the part about you leaving for your internship in a few days and me wanting to spoil you a little before you go.

We could go out to NameOfLocalRestaurant.

I meant spoil you by cooking something you’ll remember. And we’re paying tuition, so we can’t afford NameOfLocalRestaurant.

I like shepherd’s pie…?

EXCELLENT! (Excuse me I have to go fix dinner.)

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

What are you watching on TV?
Football Game 1. Football Game 2. Football Game 3. And a James Bond movie.
All of them?
Yeah (duh).
Pick one.
I’m watching all of them.
Choose a channel, Child. And leave it.
You’re really old fashioned, Mom.

Kid?
Um?
There’s a big pile of clothes outside your room.
Yeah?
Why is there a big pile of clothing outside your room?
It’s laundry.
Why is it outside your room in a big pile?
There’s no reason for it to be in my room, is there?
Child!
Don’t worry, Little Mama, I’ll do my laundry.
Preferably before it walks to the laundry room by itself…

There is also a mighty fine collection of mugs outside your room.
Yep.
Are you taking all of them with you when you go to your internship?
No, I just need to wash them.
So the hallway is what, a halfway house?
You’re hilarious, Mom.
Seriously, Child, the mugs have filed for citizenship they’ve been there so long.
I. Will. Wash. Them.

WHO USED THIS PAN AND DIDN’T WASH IT?
I’ll get to it, Mother.
Don’t you “Mother” me, young man.
You want me to call you “Dad”?
I want you to wash your dishes.
Settle down, Mama. I will, I will.
I mean before your 30th birthday!
Again, hilarious. Not.

And yet I will miss you more than you can possibly imagine when you’re off doing wonderful internship things.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Just in case you weren’t sure, coffee is a big thing.

Not just in my world, but across the galaxy.

“Coffee: the finest organic suspension ever devised.” Kathryn Janeway, 2374

Fortunately, an appropriate celebration of coffee is coming to Cincinnati.

The Cincinnati Coffee Festival will be held November 11^th and 12^th at Cincinnati Music Hall. Yes, you heard read me correctly. The Festival will be one of the first events at the Music Hall after the renovation, which is very cool.

And there will be coffee, which is very, very cool. Or hot, depending on how you take your brew.

There will also be tea and chocolate and music and a latte throwdown and pastries and all sorts of marvelous things.

Makes you wish it were already November, doesn’t it?

“It is inhumane, in my opinion, to force people who have a genuine medical need for coffee to wait in line behind people who apparently view it as some kind of recreational activity.” 
― Dave Barry

The Cincinnati Coffee Festival (I do like saying writing that) is a benefit for Ohio River Foundation. Coffee and saving the environment. It’s a beautiful thing.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It’s the 14^th in honor of which I present 14 (more or less) facts about the number fourteen.

Fourteen is the number of forgetfulness.

Huh? Who knew there had to be a number for forgetting?

In Tarot, the number 14 represents temperance, reasonableness, and self-control. Unless you forget.

A sonnet is a fourteen line poem.

Franklin Pierce was the 14th President of the United States 1853 – 1857. The entire world has forgotten.

There are 14 pounds in a stone and 14 days in a fortnight. Unless you use the stones to build a fort. In a night.

A cuboctahedron is a solid with 14 sides. It has six squares and eight equilateral triangles.

Vermont became the 14th state in 1791.

In hexadecimal, 14 is represented as E.

In binary, it’s 1110.

The moon waxes for fourteen days and then wanes for fourteen days. Wax on; wax off. Sonnets have been written about the moon. Generally not in binary.

Fourteen is the atomic number for silicon and the (approximate) atomic weight of nitrogen.

In China, the number 14 is unlucky. A fact best forgotten. Unless you’re in China.

In golf, a player can have no more than 14 clubs in the bag.

Seriously, forgetfulness has a number?

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Puppy: That’s the school bus.
Me: Yes.
Puppy: It doesn’t stop here anymore.
Me: No, it doesn’t.
Puppy: It used to stop here.
Me: Yes.
Puppy: Doesn’t it like us anymore?
Me: I’m sure the school bus likes us, but the kids go to college now, and they don’t ride the school bus to college.
Puppy: I didn’t like the school bus.
Me: You didn’t?
Puppy: It took my Kid and my Pi away.
Me: Ah, yes, it did.
Puppy: But then it brought them back later.
Me: Yes, it did.
Puppy: Now they don’t ride the bus, so it doesn’t take them away, but it doesn’t bring them back either.
Me: That’s true.
Puppy: This is complicated.
Me: You miss them when they’re gone, don’t you?
Puppy: A lot.
Me: Me too.
Puppy: Because they’re ours.
Me: Yes.
Puppy: Should I bark at the school bus?
Me: I don’t think it will help very much.
Puppy: Then I’ll take a nap.
Me: Sounds like a wonderful decision.

Love, Mom

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Dear Kid,

It’s official. We the People have lost our collective minds. We have crossed the line. Stepped over the invisible barrier. Gone a bridge too far.

We have pumpkin-spiced everything that should be and a great many things that shouldn’t.

I love fall. I love the cooler temperatures. I love the changing colors of the leaves. I love pumpkin-spice flavor.

But perhaps there should be limits.

A friend of mine recently asked (on Facebook where people answered) for fall recipes that weren’t pumpkin spice. I thought she was over reacting to the season.

No, no, my friend. If anything, she understated the obvious. I just somehow missed the memo.

Until I went to the grocery store last night. And almost passed out from pumpkin-spice variety overload.

What’s next? Pumpkin toothpaste?

I thought I was joking. Buzzfeed thought I was joking (great little blog on things that should never be pumpkin-spiced here).

But Amazon took me seriously.

I need to go lie down for a while.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Being sick has its advantages. Like you get caught up on what the insides of your eyelids are doing.

And you get to contemplate the little things. Like: Should I turn over? I think I’d like to lie on my left side. But turning over requires the effort of a whole lot of muscles, none of whom seem inclined to want to participate. Organizing them seems beyond my current abilities since anarchy seems to have control at the moment. Maybe staying on my right side will do.

Being sick allows you to gain perspective. Wars? Meh. I’m trying to wrangle enough muscles to field a team qualified to roll over. The World’s problems are puny compared to the Herculean effort I’m considering.

On the other hand, the World doesn’t seem to care much when you’re sick. It just keeps on turning.

To be fair, the world doesn’t care much when you’re healthy. But we are much more pathetic and needy when we’re sick. “Pfft,” says the World, “People get sick all the time. You’re not even Interesting Sick, you’re Boring Sick. Let me know if you do something interesting like sprout antlers or develop stripes. Until then, I’ve got my hands full.”

On the other, other hand (there are a lot of hands involved. Is that Interesting?), when you (finally) feel better and return to the land of the living (don’t tell me there aren’t zombies—I’ve seen my face in the mirror when I’m sick and that’s proof positive that zombies exist) you feel extra good. You celebrate the tiniest burst of energy.

On the other, other, other hand, if you aren’t sick, you should appreciate how good you feel today.

Love, Mom

P. S.

I’m feeling much, much better, thank you for asking.