It seems like it happened in another age, now when I think of it.
The kid was worried. 2am and we were woken up by the pitter patter of little feet. He slipped in next to me and shivered.
“Are you awake?”
“Now I am,” I felt his hot breath on my neck as he snuggled up to me and flung a leg over my tummy, “So? What gives?”
“Shouldn’t we move to higher ground? The ice caps are melting and all?” His tone was hushed and urgent.
The important thing about dealing with a 7yr old is to keep your response calm, level and deadpan and to not bat an eyelid under any circumstances.
“You have a point. Didn’t occur to me. We’ll move, first thing in the morning.”
“Where will we go?”- Mr. hushed tone.
“Why don’t we start by moving to that grassy knoll behind our backyard? It’s high enough…..take a couple of million tons of arctic ice melt to reach us up there.”
He was impressed. However….
“I’m scared of that grassy knoll,” he shivered as he pressed closer, his hair tickling my chin.
“Kennedy should’ve been too.”
“Guy who kicked the Cubans and did Monroe.”
“Can I do Monroe too?”
“Sure, first thing in the mawnin.”