Conversations, Travel, Weather

Cloudy with a chance of washing machines…

Jack was at his dad’s last weekend. He missed the major snow squall we had back here in CT. Too soon. TOO SOON!!!!!!

me: Jack did you get any snow in New York in Saturday? We had a snow squall!

Jack: What’s a squall?

me: Like a quick burst of snow flurries, sort of.

Jack: We didn’t have a squall but someone was throwing a washing machine off the roof and Dad had to call the police.

me: Um..,,


Memory is Relative

I think memory can be turned on and off by 13 year olds. I want to really believe that Jack wouldn’t forget things that I say on purpose. Right?? I get the selective hearing but maybe because their brains have NOT GROWN in fully yet, there are Swiss cheese holes where recent memories just sort of fall into.

I recently read that an average dog has a short term memory span of about 5 minutes. That explains a LOT with Moca. But it’s sad also because I give her an amazing belly rub and expect that she’ll remember how loved she felt and maybe she’ll really “drop” the ball for me this time instead of pulling a Lucy / Charlie Brown on me and running with it just as I reach for it. I sort of hoped she would want to please me since I was so nice to her! But alas, she wouldn’t even remember the belly rub. Or that I put bits of chicken or beef or salmon in her breakfast and dinner bowls. Each time I feed her she gives the bowl a look of pure disdain… she’s not one to be motivated by food. When she realizes there’s something tasty mixed in, she sometimes behaves like it’s Christmas and she devours the food-slash-treat with loud gobbles and clangy metallic slurps when the bowl is empty and she’s trying for that one last bite. Without being able to remember how yummy that meal was, she starts off the next day with the same sideways look at her food bowl. “Same old crap, eh?” Yet how can Moca remember THAT?? Hmmmm….

I’m forgetting where I was…

Oh yes, Jack and his short term memory. I’ll be glad for the day his prefrontal cortex pops open like one of those time lapse photos of flowers blooming at the end of winter, pushing the brain matter aside like soil, and he wakes from a deep sleep and looks at me appreciatively and says… THANKS! For everything.


So anyhow, I asked him to turn off the light in the upstairs hall. Again. The same light I ask him to turn off every day and sometimes every night.

Jack: No this is the episode where they end up seeing the weeping angels and one of them gets into Amy’s eye, remember? And the crack in her wall follows them to this dimension and… (boy can he remember a doctor who episode from 2 years ago)!

me: Hey Jack, go turn off the hall light up there before we watch…

Jack: Sighhhh (he gets up to turn off that light, and turns ON the stairs light to do so…)

me: AND, get the stairs light too… sheesh…

Jack; Ok Ok!

Jack returns down the stairs and walks right by the light switch and sits down. I stare at him. He stares at me.

Jack: Wellllll? (Gestures towards the TV)

me: Jack, seriously go turn off the light.

Jack: What do you think I just did??

I look at the stairs. He turns and looks.

Jack: Well you said to get the HALL light, you never said to get THAT one.

me: I said it as soon as you flipped the switch.

Jack: No you didn’t.

me: Yes I did and you said Ok. Just go turn it off please. It’s like you only remember the things you care about right? Maybe that’s it.

Jack: True!

me: Well what’s something you would never remember because you don’t care?

Jack: Literally anything you tell me.

me: Sighhhhh…

(The beatings begin)