Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Eli 7.10

Eli 7.10 has, much to my surprise, turned into a legitimate hockey fan. He's started his own career in NHL 09 (playing as Sidney Crosby, of course), scored his first goal two nights ago, and has watched every game of the Stanley Cup Finals with me.

He does not, however, understand the lingo yet.

"Come on, baby, MAKE SOME CHICKEN!" he shouted during Game Four.

"Dude, I'm not sure that's a hockey phrase," I said gently. "Are you trying for some variation of 'put the biscuit in the basket' or something like that?"

"DAD," he said just as gently, "it didn't sound RIGHT because you said it WRONG."

"I did?"

"You left out 'hot'," he said.

"Hot baby?" I asked.

"No, Dad. Hot CHICKEN," he said.

I'm glad we cleared that up.

When Eli was sick two weeks ago, I debated whether to let him watch "Monster House," an animated film that was allegedly scary enough to get a 10+ rating from Common Sense Media. I usually let him watch films that are rated up to two years above his age, so this was borderline.

"Little man, this movie is supposedly pretty scary," I said.

"I've seen some PRETTY SCARY things in my life, mister," he said.

P.S. it wasn't scary at all.

Eli got a yo-yo on Friday, and whenever he puts it down, he picks it up a minute or two later. "I CAN'T stop doing this! It's ADDICTIVE!" he says.

Eli got a cash reward from my Mom for his last report card this school year (all A+ and A), and he decided to buy a hockey stick. When he got home, he was sending tennis balls and plastic pucks flying all over the house, of course, but after about half an hour, he asked Gloria if she wanted to sit on the couch and snuggle.

She did, of course, so she came over to the couch, and they sat together for about five minutes. Then Eli got up and started playing with his hockey stock again. "Hey, I thought you wanted to snuggle!" she said.

"Mom, you're not new," he said, laughing.

Eli somehow got something in his eye last week, but we couldn't find it. We wound up going to the emergency room at 8:30 p.m. (good grief), and the doctor found a little piece of bark that was up under his eyelid. It turns out that it was a good thing we went, because there were already several scratches on Eli's cornea and it would have gotten worse.

He was fine within less than a day (man, kids heal so quickly), but that's not the story.

The story is that while we were waiting to get checked out, we heard this little girl crying. Eli saw that she was getting some kind of shot in her foot, and she was really in terrible pain.

Eli, of course, put his empathy in the form of a Harry Potter story. "Mom," he said, "I'd rather have the Cruciatus Curse done to me than see it done to someone else. I can't stand to see other people in pain."

That gave me a very warm feeling.

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