31 October, 2011

Our Son, the Geek

               “Come on, Roland. Let’s go to the toy store.” Brandon and I decided to take our little four year old shopping. Initially, we had planned on clothes shopping, but I was too curious to see the toys he liked.
               I watched him as his face filled with wonder at all the toys. He ran over to the Ugly Dolls, and picked up a few. Roland was so easily amused by everything, which to me was a good thing.
                His father and I had hoped that he would love dinosaurs and all kinds of geeky things. We always tried to introduce him to our favorite toys.
                “Hey Roland, come look at the dinosaurs.” Brandon held onto his hand, and led him to the dinosaur figurines. He picked up a Stegosaurus and handed it to Roland. He paused and looked it over in his tiny hands.
                I never realized how much Roland resembled Brandon. He had Brandon’s pale skin and extremely blonde hair. Even his personality matched Brandon’s. The only physical thing he got from me was his small figure and brown eyes. But, he did have my curiosity of the world, and artistic skill.
                He put the dinosaur back down, and seemed to lose interest in it all. I frowned and looked up at Brandon. He didn’t seem to notice Roland’s sudden disinterest.
                “Come on, hunny. We need to get you a new winter coat.” I said sadly. Roland reached up for my hand, and held it in his small grasp. We led him out of the store, and toward the next one.
                “Mummy, are there more dinosaurs?” Roland asked me. I smiled to myself, and my heart filled with joy. Our little boy did like dinosaurs.
                “Of course, baby. There are pterodactyls and they can fly.” Roland grinned and squeezed my hand tight. I looked up at Brandon and saw him smiling, too.
                Our baby boy was going to be a geek after all.

30 October, 2011


Again it’s that time of year

When all the kids come to hear

Of the good heroes that overcome the bad.

And I sit here all glum and sad.

It wasn’t supposed to be the same,

But who’s here to blame?

The dark prevails the good,

To become oblivious I throw up my hood.

Who can I say is right?

Is it even worth the fight?