My little numbers guy took my words at face value. I could hear him whispering, "1...2...3..." behind me until he finally announced, "38! I have 38 blessings, Mom." Hmmm, I would have expected more from a middle class kid living in the suburbs but it was his first pass at blessings counting so we'll go with 38.
Fast forward to bedtime: Jack asked to go to bed at 6:30 p.m. so he can lay in bed and watch a movie on my laptop before going to sleep. Fine with me, I needed to bathe the girls and it's a much easier job without him interrupting with questions and requests every 30 seconds. We fired up the Netflix website and he decided on Richie Rich, the live action version. We have occasionally watched the cartoon so I agreed to the movie.
I got the girls to bed, hung out with Tom watching ice hockey and then decided to go to bed a bit earlier than usual since I was tired from our road trip. When I went in to check on Jack and turn off the computer, he was all the way under his covers. He heard me come in and launched himself at me, sobbing so hard I could barely understand him.
Apparently, there are gunmen in Richie Rich. And they threaten Richie Rich. And Professor Greenbeans makes a bulletproof jacket for Richie. But Jack doesn't have a Professor Greenbeans. So he doesn't have a bulletproof jacket. So the gunmen will get him. Whenever they want. So somebody has to sleep with him. To keep him safe. Safe from the guns.
J: THAT WAS NOT A GOOD FOR KIDS MOVIE, MOM!!! WHY WERE THERE GUNS IN A KIDS MOVIE??? WHY DID YOU LET ME WATCH THAT MOVIE???
*sigh*
My thoughts exactly.
So I climbed into bed with him. Rubbed his back and reminded him that it was just a movie. Told him that the security system was on and no gunmen would come into our house. He wasn't mollified. Still wanted me to sleep with him "and with the light on, MOM! So I can see them if they come in to get me!!!"
We compromised on me staying until he fell asleep. Meanwhile, I was wondering how much of this is because the movie was scary and how much is related to what happened to Uncle Jonathan. Curses on you and yours, wherever you are, scumbag-who-murdered-my-wonderful-brother. The damage you inflicted has rippled into the next generation and I hope you are miserable every day of your hopefully long and painful life for the suffering you have caused to the people I love most.
ANYWAY...
To distract him from all the scary gun talk, I reminded him that it's good to count his blessings whenever he is bored or afraid. He asked if our house should be on the list.
C: Definitely, buddy. Not everyone has a warm home to keep them safe and cozy. Those people are called homeless.
Yes, I went there. Yes, I know I'm a moron. In my defense...okay, I have no defense. Just the fact that I'm an idiot.
J: Homeless? They have no home? Do they build shelters with rope and cloth?
C: Well, actually, I'm not sure that they do. Some hide in abandoned buildings. Others live in boxes on the street. That's why we should include our house on our blessings list. Not everyone has a house and we're lucky that we do.
He rolled over and looked at me with those big blue eyes welling with tears again.
Ruh-roh.
J: In a box??? That's TERRIBLE!!! Mom, why did you tell me that??? Oh, I'm very upset-et-et-et!!! *dissolves into sobbing*
C: Honey, honey! It's OKAY. There are places called shelters where homeless people can go to eat and sleep in a warm bed until they get back on their feet."
J, tears stalled and confused: Why do they have to stand up?
C: Wha...OH! They don't have to stand up. "Get back on your feet" means getting better. Like when I was sick a few weeks ago, I stayed in bed until I was able to get back on my feet when I was better.
J: Oh. So they get a job and they are back on their feet? They live there until that happens?
C: YES. That's exactly right. Gramps helped people like that to get jobs.
J: Okay. So people help them to get back on their feet. That's much better, Mom.
Yes, my darling, yes indeed it is. Not completely true of all homeless but we'll go with it for the sake of your nerves, my kind-hearted little love.
Thankfully, he was tired enough that he wasn't fully listening or else me reminding him of his dead grandfather who could no longer help the homeless might have led to a fresh round of tears.
Fortunately, he fell asleep before I got the bright idea of explaining how they painlessly euthanize unwanted puppies. Or how critics maintain that China's one-child policy has led to forced abortions and female infanticide.
Feel free to call me any time you need to feel better, k? I am extremely awesome at cheering people up. What can I say? It's a gift.
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