Sunday, August 08, 2004

They Who Are Fresh From God


I am summoning my final reserves of lucidness to post this briefest of notes from The Farm, my grandparents' homestead in Rose City, MN, and the only timeless place I know. Here four wee cousins, abandoned by their Hawaii-bound parents, have demanded of me and the grandparents about two-weeks worth of love and patience in the space of 48 hours. It's been a fine time of piggy-back rides, tree climbing, hide n' seek (which you haven't played until you've tried it on a dairy farm, let me tell you), scraped knees,bloody noses, ATV rides and bedtime stories. All of which served to further whet my appetite for and dilate my pupils with fear of eventual fatherhood.

I had forgotten what an extraordinary schatological fixation occupies the pre and elementary school mind. Either it's all very Freudian, or it serves to explain from whence came Freud's fancies. It's a wonder, really, that MORE parents don't come away from the experience with slightly mad theories hinging on unsavories--"poop," "potty-heads," even "boogers." I've decided that, contrary to the popular idea that bathroom humor appeals with greatest resonance to undergraduate guys, those sophomoric expressions are instead merely pale revivals of a much richer period of hilarity occupying the first seven years or so of life.

At least one of these expressions was made with some poetry. Addressing to one nervously dancing little boy the question of why he wasn't proceeding to the just-vacated bathroom and the business that so obviously awaited him there, I was answered, "I hafta' wait 'till the toilet stops making its lonely, rustling sound." Many thanks to five-year-old Riley for so lyrical a description of a running toilet tank.



7 Comments:

Blogger Robert H. said...

*chuckle/smirk* Brilliant. Even better in person, I'm sure . . .

August 9, 2004 at 4:43 PM  
Blogger M. Lumpkin said...

Many mornings I long for our toilet to make any sound, which would mean that we had water to shower.

Matt and I agreed that any five-year-old who used the words "rustling, lonely sound" in describing a toilet had to be related to you.

Now I'm off to put up the *&&%$# leg. It's a funny color today, just in case you were wondering.

-the other M.Lumpkin

August 10, 2004 at 5:35 AM  
Blogger M. Lumpkin said...

Since you always comment in verse
I thought for your blog I'd be first
but do not be surprised
to find my my metering blind
and my tone a little bit terse

I've Ben Wondering what you've been up to
or more precisely where you'll be off to
though I don't think I'll mind
if I end up surprised
about just what a mess you've got into

August 14, 2004 at 8:06 AM  
Blogger Andria said...

From my experience with 5 year old boys, I have found they are, in fact, about on an even brain wave as undergrads...but that is ok, because they will both grow out of it sometime.

August 17, 2004 at 12:45 PM  
Blogger Myles said...

how are joel and alice? i had a dream about them last night and it made me wonder.

August 19, 2004 at 3:42 AM  
Blogger M. Lumpkin said...

How about something fresh from Ben? (His post on my blog excluded :)

August 24, 2004 at 4:16 PM  
Blogger Adam said...

Hey Ben! I hope you're doing great man! Keep your blog up. You're a brilliant writer!

August 24, 2004 at 8:54 PM  

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