Save the Stick Figures (No, Not Models)

Photo: I'm guessing your odds are better if you fight with a cupcake ninja.

Today* was a day that all kids dream of; a day without boundaries, nutrition, or censorship! I longed for a day with my parents such as this, but that moment never came. They were good role models, the kind who put other parents to shame. I went in a different direction.

Oren, the Esq and I had lunch at Blue C Sushi today; I have to say, even if their food tasted like complete and utter shit, I'd still eat there. I like for my food to have a good time on the conveyor belt while I figure out which one I'm going to murder first. Plus they were playing Hot Chip during lunch hour, and I appreciated that. Afterwards, we met up with Anthony and went to the Seattle Science Center. It was a blast! We went through the exhibits, and saw the IMAX Grand Canyon movie in 3-D, which was awesome. I was actually shrieking with delight and reaching out to touch stuff like a total n00b. Later on, the Esq met up with us at the Broadway Grill, where we inhaled iced teas and crab sandwiches like nobody's business. We followed that up with a rowdy party of four at Cory's house with Sara Rose--and by rowdy, I mean 'surfing the internet in silence'.

Can life get any better than this? I don't think so. Having Oren around has really been a load of fun--I get to do the fun stuff since he doesn't live with me. I also don't have to change my lifestyle much, since I think he can handle a mom who dreams of stabbing women like Mr. Belvedere. Oren will probably have a potty mouth later, but at least I keep it creative. He will never be known for unimaginative expletives. He is so insistent on being like me, inherently, and it's frightening. I haven't quite come to terms with it yet.

Oren laughs like me; he cackles, guffaws, snorts, giggles, chuckles, crows, and snickers like me. Oren smiles, jokes, and clowns like me--he rolls his eyes with comedic timing in the same way I do, and makes self-deprecating jokes about his weight like I do. He says 'I love you' out of the blue, gets embarrassed when he has to use the bathroom, and doodles horrible scenes involving violence and stick figures upon napkins in restaurants, just--like--me. We see each other so infrequently, it's hard to comprehend how similar we are. He's a skeptic, a romantic, a politician, a rock; he's a nobody, a scaredy-cat, a well-loved hero. He's just like me, only smaller and male. I love it--and resent it--and I'm humbled by it--and I ignore it; I hope that he doesn't end up like me one day. Then again, I hope that he ends up kind of like me. But just the good parts: the drama, the action, the laughs, the adventures. Skip the 'life didn't go my way' segment; just focus on my righteousness. It's not hard to miss.

Being a mom is weird.

*Photos from our two days of being the perfect atomic family can be seen on The Sanitarium, tomorrow or next year.