Root Canals, Football Fans, Maple Trees, & Great Clips in a Strip Mall

Well first things first.

I have to have a root canal. Am seeing an endodontist first thing Monday morning to confirm that I may have what likely amounts to the worst decay and possibly abscess in the free world. So for most of you, this has two important implications:

1. You’ll have to read the whole story next week.
2. Your Christmas present will likely come from the Radnor Lake Lost and Found Box rather than Macy’s.

It’s gonna be expensive according to my dental insurance list of typical costs that are ONLY ESTIMATES – IT COULD COST MORE – THESE ARE ONLY ESTIMATES. But seriously, the likes of Nicole Kidman run out here, so in the past what we’ve found in the Lost and Found Box hasn’t been too shabby. In fact, without even visiting the box, I have already found two gifts already just lying around on the trails … a pink, hand-made baby hat and a blue and white striped matching hat and scarf from the Gap. But since I have now announced that over the world wide web, I guess those’ll have to be assigned to our family members who are technologically illiterate. Y’all don’t tell.

Now, on to more pressing issues.

One of the best things about Autumn Goose is that he likes football. He already understands that he will never be allowed to consider or even joke about playing, but he likes to watch it on TV. Two Sundays ago I had a game on in the background (it reminds me of my Daddy) while I was grading papers. He got up from his nap and came downstairs demanding apple juice and stopped dead in his tracks and said, “FOOTBALL. A GAME. HA HA HA! CRASH! I WATCH FOOTBALL.” And ever since then he gets up from every sleep asking to “watch that game.”

Here we are watching a game.

But seriously, I don’t care what he does in life, but I absolutely refuse to allow him to willingly propel his body into huge linebackers for the sake of some school’s spirit. That, to me, is almost as bad as joining the army. I just can’t even think about. I’m all for being a good sport, for school spirit, for patriotism, for duty, and courage and all of that. But not my baby. Uh-unh.

Well, maybe if he can be the punter.

The second best thing about The Goose is that he can successfully identify maple trees.

Stop rolling your eyes. He can. Last Sunday he was driving me crazy so I let him loose outside and followed him up a moderately difficult trail. He hiked the entire 1.5 miles of it, stopping periodically to identify various natural points of interest: maple trees, moss, bark, leaves at the top, some mulch, a big rock, a big stick, etc.

In other news ...

I took him for his first professional hair cut last Monday. We went to Great Clips in a local strip mall that (what a coincidence!) happened to be right next door to Starbucks. The Goose calls Starbucks the "chocolate milk place" because I always get him a Horizon Organic 2% Chocolate Milk which he can suck down in less than 60 seconds. He's got holiday portraits coming up soon at school and I just really felt like it was time to pay $10 and have him tortured for a while.

Because trust me, torture is what it amounted to.

First, there was the cape -- a "big banky ... it off! Big banky off!" And then there was the stylist ... a large, poofy-haired woman with little patience for my Haircut Anxiety or the Goose's Wiggleworminess. She'd say, "Hold his head down please." And I would, but then she'd say, "You're gonna have to move your hands or I can't cut his hair." And he'd scream and say, "Banky off!" And then there was the scary bearded man using the neighboring chair. Unfortunately, he was utilizing an electric beard trimmer on some poor soul and the noise was really scary (apparently) and then he kept calling it a "hair lawnmower" which only confused the poor Goose, who was craning his neck to look outside after hearing the keyword "lawnmower." But all in all, I was pleased and I even tipped our snippety stylist who, during checkout, confessed that she didn't really believe my hair was naturally curly or auburn. What we don't know.

Well, this is long, and I haven't even written about the "Trunk or Treat" party @ JEB's school. Maybe next week.

See you then.