Amusing Lad
Yoke’s had a cereal sale the other day, and so as we stood in front of the display of boxed cereal, I told Hans he could choose any box he wanted for his birthday breakfast. He carefully considered the boxes — Cherrios, Kix, Trix, other sugar-coated varieties of a more novel sort — and then reached for a box of Raisin Bran. “Raisin Bran?” I questioned, as the boy stocking the cereals glanced up at me in good-humored shock. I decided against contradicting or questioning his choice as much on the grounds of insulting him in his choice as not wanting to suggest that junk cereal is better. He was happy and pleased, and I let him be: “I like that kind.” I told him as he placed it in the cart.
Today I glanced up from my book to see Hans sitting with a snack at the table. He looked so long and knowing that I thought I could envision him being 10, sitting there snacking. I saw a crowd of winsome but awkward preteen boys hallooing through the house and asked Hans if he would be my amusing lad. “What?” he queried. “Are you going to be an amusing lad?” “Well, no, I’m going to be a grown-up. I am going to be five this week.”
