Humor Me: Flying Lessons

Flying Lessons
By Jeni Boltshauser

My little wannabe superhero spent the first few days of spring break trying to master the mechanics of flying. Dressed for the part in his Batman costume, he swooshed about the house, superhero-style, jumping from couches, chairs, beds, and tables, trying to catch as much air as possible. He used all our clean pillows as a makeshift stunt mat to cushion his falls—a fact I didn’t discover until after they all had a nice accumulation of dog hair, crumbs and squished fruit snacks. Just what Mom wants on spring break: more laundry! (Truth be told, I only washed mine. The other pillow owner, the one who avoids opening the washing machine as if it was the entrance to a black hole, had his brushed off and pronounced, “Good as new!”)

I posted on my Facebook page that my poor little cherub was frustrated with his inability to fly. (Stupid gravity!) All my male friends, mostly dads, quickly chimed in with peeks inside the male kindergartner mind. I was reading my personal favorite (“Bed sheet tied to ankles—check. Bed sheet tied to wrists—check. Commence rooftop flight launch!”) when Riley came up to me with his Stepford child look.

You see, when Riley wants something he knows he shouldn’t have, he becomes solemnly polite and extremely formal. “Hello. May I please have three sheets, hard, that can puff out?” he asked in his mommy-dearest tone. My response? Not so fast, my little friend. I have been educated.

As the flying lost its appeal, he built a slide out of blankets. His imagination was on full tilt as he put on his swim trunks, turned on the beach music, and went gliding— straight into the woodstove. Still, for those sunny moments before the collision, I found myself imagining the warmth of summer’s heat—and counting the weeks before Back to School.

Jeni lives in Grass Valley with her husband and her hilarious, full-of-surprises 5-year-old son. You can catch her latest blog posts on our home page at SacramentoParent.com.