It seems the Gort is becoming something of a geologist-in-training. Recently, he’s been coming home from school; his backpack or pockets stuffed with ‘special rocks’ found on the playground during recess. One day he came home with a disk-shaped piece of greenish glass, not entirely unlike the game pieces from our Mancala set downstairs. ‘This is my most favorite rock,’ he announced. [Though, after that particular day, I can’t say I recall hearing much more about the special rock.]
And then it was Saturday night. The older boys were gathered on the kitchen floor with their father – classifying rocks by type.
Percy was sitting on the counters (banished from the rocks) while I was busy in the kitchen. He grabbed the special green rock from its hiding place next to the stove and played with it for a second or two, before dropping it on the floor. I made a mental note that the ‘special’ rock had been dropped; certain I’d hear about it later from my oldest boy-child.
Sure enough, right before bedtime, the Gort suddenly remembered that he’d lost something. ‘Have you seen my…’ and I was only half-listening, because I knew what was coming next. ‘Where did you see it last?’ I asked and he explained that it had been on the counter.
‘I know where it is,’ I assured him, ‘I’ll find it when you go to bed.’ The next morning, the Gort got up, expecting to be reunited with his lost treasure. Except I’d forgotten all about my promised mission from the previous evening; having watched a rather disturbing movie instead.
So I dutifully finecombed the kitchen; looking for the greenish glass rock that Percy had dropped the night before. I looked under the stove. I swept under the stove. The professor looked under the refrigerator. It was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, the crestfallen Gort had begun to shed tears over the missing ‘Zane’. The professor and I looked at each other with wide eyes. Had the kid actually named a rock (err, piece of glass)? And was he shedding actual tears….for said rock?
This was over the top, even for a member of our prone-to-dramatics family. The day continued with the Gort mentioning Zane every two point five seconds. Finally, as I was cleaning the younger boys’ room, I found a surrogate glass piece – from the aforementioned Mancala set. ‘Can’t you just take this one?’ I begged-asked; eager to put this Zane business behind me.
‘It’s not a glass piece,’ my oldest protested; in the how-dumb-can-you-be tone of voice typically employed by teenagers. ‘It’s a ninja Lego guy! He’s white, with a ninja mask and the word Zane on the back.’
I was relieved on several levels: my kid was not naming rocks, he was not crying about rocks. But I still had a problem on my hands: the missing Zane. Because the Gort was not going to be satisfied until he had that white ninja in his hands.
‘I’ll look for him after you go to bed,’ I promised. [Again.] Willing to dig through a huge bucket of Lego if it meant I would never have to hear the word Zane again.
I emerged from the basement well after 9pm; having done a load of laundry, checked my email and downloaded the pictures from my camera. My oldest stood by his bedroom door, having engaged in a bit of reconnaissance judging from the look of suspicion on his face.
‘You’re not looking for Zane,’ he accused, ‘you’re sitting at the computer.’
Postscript: At roughly 4.30pm on February 7, Zane was magically returned to our household from an undisclosed location. Courtesy of Percy Johnson. Am I the only person who finds this suspicious? ‘Mom, guess what Percy found? Zane!’ ‘Where did he find him?’ ‘I don’t know.’ Mmmmh.