Chapter 15: I'm Getting Ahead of Myself. By Several Lifestates.
With Kite going to school, Miko and I are freed up for a while to enjoy the weekdays…
Including some high-quality Chez Llama dates. Now, the waitstaff has kind of an issue about exactly what sort of booth-table situation to give for a date. Pros of this situation: This.
“Yaawwwwn, goodness, but they’re taking so long to get the food out.”
“Yes, five seconds is really long, isn’t it? Definitely super-duper yawnworthy,” Miko replies. Her eyes sparkle and linger on the ol’ reach-around underway. With a giggle, she adds, “Oh, my. It seems an impassable barrier is in my path! A hand!”
“I’ll have to go the opposite way, tee-hee, right into the warm arms of my love,” she adds, holding back an additional wave of giggles to snuggle up.
“Come on, babe. I can’t be smooth if you’re going to do it like that.”
“You’re always smooth to me. The ol-reach-around? Never smooth, and I love it.”
“Fine, fine…”
Eventually, we do get the food and more importantly food photos we came for. They only come to about 10-25 a pop, though; is this really what I want to contribute?
After school, Kite’s got some levels of creativity to grind out, and that’s a good idea… But I also ask him to go join Miko in chess. I mean, it’s just efficient if he can bounce around a little, and hit tomorrow’s homework with focused.
He and Miko talk for a while out on the side porch, just about this and that. I think Miko’s been introducing him to the show about the rock aliens, and I can see why he’d get into it; the lead’s very much a kumbaya-lets-all-hold-hands kinda sucker. But I also overheard stuff not about cartoons singing and crying (kid’s shows got
real weird when I didn’t have people in my life to pay attention to them.)
“Hey… Hey, Ka-san... can ya’ spin me sumthin’, Ka-san?” Kite asks, looking down uneasily at the board, his eyes darting back up to Miko, and away.
“I can try! What is it, sweetie?” Miko doesn’t miss a beat (spin me? Who taught this kid to talk and how was it me?)
Kite clicks a piece onto the board before he works up his answer.
“How d’ya know if… If a, I donno, just a dude… How d’ya know if he’s, you know… a guy that’s, I mean, most a’the people I know aren’t nothin’ to blame, but…”
“Kite? It’s ok.” She reaches over and pats him on the shoulder, stopping him. “You don’t have to worry about how to ask it to me.”
“What makes a dude...good?” is what he eventually manages to ask, and Miko tilts her head thoughtfully.
“I think there’s a lot of ways to good person; even just caring for others is enough. But for me… I think a good person is someone who helps others with what matters to them,” she answers, to a thoughtful look from our boyo. What a sweet group of people I’ve got going on, the suckers. Good thing they’ve got me.
“Huh, so that’s the stairs up, huh? An’ if Ka-san’s not the goodest gooder I know, I donno who’d take that crown… So. Le’s...take a breather, ‘fore we start the go-go-go.”
Well, I for one think he’s doing great. It’s fun, seeing what he can rack up; I wish I’d had that sort of opportunity.
Speaking of… Guess who’s a drinkmaster now? C’est moi. I’ll need to build my charisma skill for more. So that’s something to do, at least.
“I hate my carpool…” Zest opens the door with that. Couldn’t even kick it, huh? “I hate them so much.”
“Someone decided they’d drop me off at the end of the road! While I’m at the end of my rope! I had to drudge all the way back here...When all I wanted to do was nap.”
“That’s rough, buddy.”
But once he’s gotten that rest (Phhh, the baby. He should have just let me summon the club.) he goes on to do it. He’s completed his original aspiration.
He’s a true comedian now.
“So, a girlfriend of mine tells me ‘Hey,
A Streetcar Named Desire is being put on.’ And, like a good guy who occasionally woohoos her, I offer to take her to see it. I mean, it’s really a
Stella play.”
Nevermind, I don’t know why he looks so accomplished. Zest is an enigma.
Nice going, kiddo. Kite’s first day at school got him up to a B; in light of that, I really don’t mind letting him wander off for the afternoon, even if there’s skilling to be done. I figure a kid’s got to do their kidding sometime, and I think he agrees.
It lets him meet a friend anyway (look, I can spy on my kid if I want to)...That’s Zest’s unfortunately-named Hobart, isn’t it?
“Man, that’s sure a name and some! S’allright if I call you Hob,” is what Kite asks, showing, I think, good sense. “‘S shorter, you know? An’ it’s a bit more fun to say, heheh.”
“Yeah, sure,” is Hob’s answer.
“Watcha’ doin~?”
“My dad asked me to join a club? And there’s not a meeting right now, or anything, but I wanted to see!” He waves a finger in explanation, bouncing on his heels.
“An’ you wanted to say hi t’yer old man, too, right?” Kite asks, trying to get a good look at Hobart’s face, where he loses his sort of ‘I’m an older kid talking to a younger kid’ cool.
“...I mean. Since he wants to. It wouldn’t be bad, right?”
“It’d be super cool, Hob; we’re talking frozen-over-pond cool… Well, it’s not that sorta chill right now, just regular-type cool, but while the sun’s a-bakin’ it’d prob’ly add a nice sorta feelin’...” He shook his head to dislodge the errant train of thought. “But Uncle Johnny’s out for a while. Sorry ‘bout that.”
And for a second, Hob doesn’t say anything, just sighs, and Kite gives him a look for a while, before reaching out a hand and giving him a little pat on the shoulder, resting his hand there for a while.
“Hey! You don’t gotta worry ‘bout it...Really. You’ll get other shots; you’re in the club, right?”
“Yeah, but Mom says Dad does a lot of things for a day,” comes the bitter reply.
“...Yeah. But c’mon! You can’t just give up, can you? ...Well, I guess if it don’t work out, nothin’ wrong in cuttin’, but… Uh… I think it’s important t’him. I do! He seemed...real happy to hang with Bonnie back a sunset or two back.” Kite stretched out. “...So it’d be nice t’see it through, you know? ‘Til then, why don’t we hang?”
“...Yeah. Yeah! Let’s hang out! You mentioned the pond earlier; you know how to skip stones?”
“Teach me, oh teacher-dude!”
And the two boys run out of the window’s view, down to the lake by the rod. I occasionally think I can hear them, but maybe not. Still, it’ll be good for Kite’s social skills (Like, level 10 good; nice one, kiddo)...
And by the time the night forces Hobart to go back home, the two are quickly the best of friends. Nice; I worry, since Hob’s older than Kite by a ways, you know? Gonna hope he gets a back-up in case of the worst, but I guess I’m getting ahead of myself. By several life stages. Most of them, really.
I’ve got social skills of my own to raise.
Meanwhile, while I guess Zest might just be sincere about this abrupt parenting thing…
He’s still not a monogamy type of guy. He’s just more responsible about that.
The next day, it looks like Miko and Akira are starting to patch some stuff up. Probably, I guess. I’d say he still looks peeved...
But that might just be his face.
“Ugh, I swear. I get the dumbest freelance work clients, and sometimes it feels like I’m only logging every other hour! And the hours!”
“That’s rough. What are the client like?” Miko asks.
“Get this: I had to make a banner that flashed, but wasn’t animated. Also, it couldn’t flash too much. Or too little. For a website about a cat!”
“Ooh! Was it a cute cat?”
“Not the point.” He considers it. “Adorable, really. With nice eyes.”
“Ooh, you’ll have to show me what you ultimately ended up doing instead of what she asked.”
Well, I guess I’m happy that they’re getting along better, since they were closer before they moved here, from all I know.
That said, there’s stuff I’m less happy about in my personal life.
Somewhere along the line, Kite and I lost track of what drawings he’s done, so his finishing that aspiration is getting delayed.
“Really, why does it even matter? They’re all drawings. You’ve done plenty. We ran out of room on the fridge.”
“I like drawin’ for a few more ticks, Mom. So it’s OK if I gotta spin out a few more...He’s got a good smile,” he adds, gesturing down to his drawing.
“Is that a monster or a person?”
Kite shrugs and waves a hand abstractly.
“Donno. Could be both -- he’s smilin’, that’s a person thing, right? But he’s orange, and I guess a person can have be orange, right? But they might be a monster-person, which, well, I’m figgerin’s better’n a person-monster. So both. A surfin’ monster-person-dude…’S it really important to you, Mom?”
I was sort of thinking categorically.
“Of course. I want the best outcome we can get, and that means getting these aspirations done. You’re only a kid once, after all. Let’s say person.”
“...Yeah. Sure thing, Mom.”
Not that these is his only artistic medium -- guess I know what I’d recommend for him down the line, if he’s taking suggestions -- but it is the tidiest.
“Kite...Remember what I said about making messes? Don’t mess up the Chez Llama’s sidewalk unless it looks really cool or accomplishes something,” I say, holding the door open so he’ll head on inside for Miko’s birthday dinner.
The placemat is a much more productive choice. The cake was one I brought. I just thought it’d be nice to eat out.
Since I had work in a bit, and didn’t really have time for a party, we decided to have a family dinner. Actually a family dinner, without lunkhead 1 and lunkhead 2.
“It’s nice; and we’ll have time to spend together before I go to work,” I’m explaining as we wait for food. No yawning, this time. We’re not in a booth. “Admittedly, the food is…”
““‘Not as good as yours,’”” chorus the other two, stifling amusement.
“I call ‘em as I see ‘em. I’m a drinkmaster.”
“...That how it works?” ponders Kite, leaning back in his chair.
“You have to take what your mother says with a grain of salt every now and then, tee-hee. She’s like a peacock sometimes,” Miko leans across the cake to whisper. As if I can’t hear that! “Still, it makes her feel better.”
“Gotcha, Ka-san!”
“I will not stand for this indign-- Well. It is my color,” I say, my mock-pride boiling away. “Well, shall we get the most essential part out of the way first?”
The candles are lit, and our lady of the hour rises.
“Make a breeze of it, Ka-san!”
“One breeze, coming up! One, two, and a wish for three!”
I wonder what she wished for? ...This isn’t nearly present enough. Age-up wise, she wears it so well it hurts.
“Hold up, let me fix you a celebratory beverage.”
“That’s not a great use of time, is it?” Miki asks, straightening herself and settling in.
“Details. I’ll get you your real gift later. For now, a drink.”
I could get used to digs like these. Maybe it’s kind of sterile for my place, but I do like the piano.
I deliver my dear wife her drink before I head on out to work, and I walk away, hearing excited chatter.
“And that’s why we’ve got to smash the normative high-low art barrier,” Miko’s explaining, “We shouldn’t just reward one type of creativity! You should respect things like comics as worthy art, too.”
“Ohhhh, you’re sayin’ like video games?”
“Exactly; look at the graphics! The stories! The careful blending of interaction and music and all the junk like that! They’re unique and precious!” She’s pumping her fists excitedly, and even from the door, I can see that bright glint in her eye.
“Huh.... That’s nice as pie. Or cake, since it’s a birthday with one birthday-type cake t’spruce it up…Hm...” Kite drifts off for a moment, looking not towards the cake, but up at the ceiling. “That mean you wanna play some video games when we get home?”
“Do I ever! Now, since it’s my birthday, I get to be Yoshi.”
“Aww! ...But sure. ‘Cause birthdays.”
Happy birthday, Miko.
