Do you no the way to (San) Jose
Monday October 09th 2006, 5:24 pm
Filed under: Non-Knitting

My youngest, as a baby, hated being in the car. Hated it. Screamed from the moment you put him in there in the backseat till the moment you picked him back up again, completely different from his siblings, who would watch calmly out the windows and often fall asleep after awhile. He was the world’s most placid baby–except on wheels.

But still, that didn’t prepare me for his first words. You know, there’s the usual Ma Ma Ba Ba babbling, but the very first real words out of that little boy’s mouth made it very clear he had older siblings to copy. It wasn’t even the standard two-word tiny toddler talk. I was buckling him into his carseat, and this little-boy voice pronounced in protest up at me, “No way Jose.”

Say WHAT? You can’t say that yet! But he could. And he did.

So, now he’s a college freshman, the one kid to choose to be living at home while going to school, at least for this year. (And I’m the one trying not to freak out when he’s driving. One horrendous moment being twice-crashed because of one distracted speeder behind me six years ago, and my balance was shot for life.) He’s in the college choir, and he proudly volunteered his mother’s superb chocolate decadence torte as treats he was going to bring in to share with the other singers.

And then he came home and told me. Oh really? No way Jose, hon. You’re perfectly capable. Dowicherself. (He’d thought, on reflection, that that reaction might be forthcoming.)

So. I walked into the kitchen a little while ago to sneak a peek at the proceedings.

It took me a moment. What on earth? Oh. Um. Did you… Are those egg whites being beaten with the butter, with the egg yolks waiting to be beaten separately? Rather than the other way around?

Oh oops. He had to start over. No biggy, and his tortes (my recipe makes two) came out beautifully.

I, meantime, threw some milk and flour and those egg yolks into that first bowl, baking like I knit: ad libbing as I go. I’m waiting to see how it comes out. But his tortes will definitely find their way to the college near San Jose; the kid did a good job. As I knew he would, and now he knows he can.

And, though it really shouldn’t bother me, I will, as I often do, say a small prayer as he gets in my car and heads down the crazy California freeways, offering a quiet thanks later when he arrives safely home.

4 Comments so far
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What a great story about your boy!! Kudos to both of you for sticking to your respective guns! (oh, that’s not a good metaphor anymore, but I hope you aren’t offended)

Comment by gail 10.10.06 @ 9:07 am

Every mistake is an opportunity to learn, but it’s a good thing that egg white and butter mistake was caught before someone had to eat it.

I understand your concern about cars. I love not owning or needing one, but am stil occasionally worried simply being a pedestrian (even in this cow town.)

I’ve been reading faithfully and had some comments on past posts. Loved the cuddly tiger hug, and maybe an esoteric musician knitter would recognize a pattern of whole rests, or numes, or maybe just the staff without a clef? Loved the pin, by the way. Let us know if you create another pattern to show it off again.

Comment by Lynn 10.10.06 @ 9:30 am

I love the story about your son. I understand about the car thing though. After nearly losing my son last year, I find it’s a constant fight to have faith and not worry. How rewarding it is though, to see him happy and healthy and know that we are able to choose not to live in fear.

Comment by Joni 10.10.06 @ 12:13 pm

Wow, Joni. Another story on my youngest: last New Year’s Eve, he called home at 12:30 am to say a clearly drunk driver had just been suddenly coming speeding at him head-on in his lane, and there had been nothing he could do but throw the wheel to get out of the way. He disembowelled our Prius to the tune of over $6000–and I will forever be grateful to the repair guy at the car dealership it got towed to, who, after asking how it happened, exclaimed to him, “You did exactly the right thing!”

Which is what we’d been saying, but every kid needs to hear they’d done well from someone other than their parents. Cars can be replaced. Money doesn’t matter.

Ordinary days where you can go make a chocolate cake if you feel like it are just so wonderful, you know?

Comment by AlisonH 10.14.06 @ 11:34 am

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