Chapter Five
Desdemona had a birthday recently and promptly launched a midlife crisis. She’s been muttering about divorcing Fernando (luckily he doesn’t know this), but so far all she’s done has been to get some new clothes.
Our little kitten, Grimalkin, also has gotten older, turning into a cat. Ophelia wants to see if he can catch deathfish in our pond.
But the one who seems to be growing the most quickly is Falstaff. He has quite the rich fantasy life, which worries me a little.
Unlike the others, he didn’t get a little doll to play with. Instead, he dresses up.
He’s written another little story.
One day, Prince Falstaff decided he was tired of school holding court. People kept asking him for stuff, and it cut into his allowance budget.
Prince Falstaff decided to take a vacation. Some people said he should go to Smortlee and see a tournament. Then he heard Luffenting was famous for its ales. He knew that was where he wanted to go.
He had a great time. When he got home, he wrote and asked them to send him a recipe for their ale.
They did. It was made of honey, spice, and wheat. He really liked it and wrote them a thank-you letter. The End. After reading his story, I knew it was time we had a little discussion.
“Falstaff,” I said. “You do realize we don’t have ale here.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “Prince Falstaff doesn’t have a great-grandma who can make delicious ambrosia, so we’re even.”
To say I was surprised is putting it mildly. I didn’t think Desdemona would have talked to him about it yet. “What do you know about ambrosia?” I asked.
“It’s what you and Grandma eat to keep from dying,” he said. “And someday Mom and I will eat it, too.”
“That’s right,” I said. “But don’t talk about it at school, okay?” He left to go play, and I was left scratching my head. Precocious – that’s the word for him, but having a word doesn’t help much.