I spent a few hours sitting under a tree with Harper this afternoon watching the boys help Paul wash our cars.
“Be careful! Don’t get that soap in your eyes, it may kill you!!!” Said the dramatic one with authority.
Always so over the top I thought as I passed a Cheerio to Harper.
“Oh, yeah… good point!” said the other. “Kind of like how mom almost died.”
I put down the Cheerio bowl and my ears and eyes perked up as I held my breath. I wondered where this gem of a lively conversation was going and where exactly it had come from. I sat motionless wondering if Paul on the other side of the driveway could hear this too.
“Yeah.” Chimed in the dramatic one with authority while filling his bucket with water.
“You know… Like how mom almost died of the brain tumor and now she’s good? Well, that soap is bad stuff if it gets in your eyes.” Says the other one.
“Right. Like how Mom almost died because she has that brain tumor.” Says the dramatic one as he waters down the driveway.
“But, she was smart and had that operation thing. I don’t know what you call it, but you know where they shaved her head and she got really sick? I don’t know how they did that but, she was smart and now she’s fine. She hasn’t died. She’s good.” Says the other one.
“Yeah, Mom was smart. She’s all good now. See, she’s just sitting there.” Says the dramatic one as he shoots the hose at the other one.
My brain was barely keeping up with their 30 second banter. As quickly as this miss-guided conversation filled with inaccuracies began, it ended. I worried that they’d never listened to anything I’d ever told them about my diagnosis and surgery. I wanted to correct them. I wanted to dispel the misunderstandings. Yet, neither seemed affected and what difference would it make? Their conversation was as normal as talking about the score of the Red Sox game and what’s for dinner. I guess they do normal pretty well and damn do they manage to keep it interesting around here.