Last week we had a lot of rain here in north Texas. A lot. Rain is pretty much always needed and wanted here, at least by grownups.
Sean, on the other hand, was missing the sun. He stood at the door to the backyard asking, “Where did the sun go? Is it ever going to come back?”
I decided it was an excellent opportunity to teach a lesson in Earth sciences, so I grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and called him over to my desk. I pulled him up into my lap and started drawing.
I drew a picture of our house. In the sky I drew rain clouds and rain pelting The House of Antique. Then above the dark clouds, I drew the sun shining happily. I explained to him that the sun was still there shining as it always has since forever, but that the rain clouds were in the way. I told him that when the wind pushed the clouds away, then we would see the sun again.
He seemed satisfied by that answer, but then he asked me where the moon was. That was a little more complicated, so I drew a picture of the earth with the sun on one side and the moon on the other. I explained to him how when it was daytime here and we were playing or eating lunch, it was night on the other side of the world where everyone was sleeping.
He pointed to the top of the earth and announced jubilantly, “Dat’s the North Pole! Polar bears and penguins and Santa wiv dare!” He was so proud of his display of knowledge.
Then he pointed to the center part of globe I had drawn and just as a foreigner searches for a word, he haltingly said, “Eat taters…hot…wizards whiz…dare.” And then he looked at me pleadingly and waved his hand over the drawing as though that would help it all make sense.
I looked at him and he looked back at me, each waiting for the other say, “Aha! I see!”
So finally I said, “Whuut?”
So he repeated it, only louder this time so that understanding might penetrate my blonde hair, hair that no only looks like a helmet, but also acts like one too, protecting my brain from all incoming useful information. All I could do was stare blankly at him while visions of eating taters hot and/or hot wizards whizzing danced in my head.
Perhaps spurred on by the dumb expression on my face, he kept repeating the mystery phrase faster and louder and more emphatically, “EATTATERSHOTWIZARDSWHIZDARE!” until finally the light bulb went on.
I jumped from my seat and shouted, “THE EQUATER IS HOT AND LIZARDS LIVE THERE!” We high-fived and did the end zone dance. Confetti rained from the ceiling and a girl in an evening gown appeared and presented me with a years supply of Rice-A-Roni and some lovely parting gifts.
No. The part about the confetti is not true, but she did have popsicles.