Funny

6: 45 PM: Elan and I are sitting at the kitchen table, him doing homework, me alternately cursing and blessing the ins and outs of Joomla!. The phone rings, and I answer – then hold the receiver away from my ear as an extremely high-pitched voice replies, “THIS IS ABRAHAM CZUKER! IS ELAN THERE!”

I hand the phone to Elan, and he’s clearly thrilled, a phone call from a friend! “Hey Abraham!” Listens, then turns to me. “When am I available for a play date?” Details are worked out, a play date arranged for Sunday. Elan hangs up, smiling.

“That was nice,” I say. “I didn’t know you were friends with Abraham. You never talk about him.”
“Yeah, he’s like, SUPER nice,” Elan explains. “Like today? You didn’t give me so much snacks? So Abraham shared his with me because I was STARVING.”

I think, Abraham Czuker saves my parenting ass. Terrif.

“Cool,” I manage. Then Elan puts down his pencil and grins, elbows on the table, leaning toward me conspiratorially. I’m mesmerized for a minute by his thick, rumpled hair and perfectly Little Boy face, the freckles that multiplied over the summer across his nose and cheeks in that just-right amount that never satisfied my own. The little dimple just above his chin shows, and I’m suddenly tempted to lean forward and smooch that nose, or bite it, maybe. But I know whatever he’s about to tell me will be lost in his annoyance so I resist.

“Everyone thinks I’m so funny,” he reveals.
“They do?”
“Yeah. Like I’m the funniest in my class. I make Ezra laugh so hard he slaps his knees and tells me to stop. I do silly things and I have these funny things I say to my friends…I can’t explain it, I’m just, like, funny.”

He’s become really self-conscious of late, so I’m thrilled that he’s so clearly proud of his new development.

“Well, you’ve got funny genes,” I say. “Your daddy was one of the funniest in his class, and I was kind of funny too, in my day…”

But the moment has passed, he becomes obviously bored as soon as I mention his father and I. He turns back to his weekly homework packet. “What’s an ‘analogy’ again?”

I know I’m a few short years away from him just outright rolling his eyes at me. Maybe less.

So I just go ahead and kiss him.