The H-bomb has been hilariously six lately. I wish I could I just follow him around recording the things he says and photographing his life. Unfortunately, I never have a notepad when I need one, so I don't remember half the stuff he says and does, but I have managed to commit a few things to memory:
1. He just finished plowing his way through a series of books called The A to Z Mysteries which, as you might guess, have alphabetical, alliterative titles like "The Absent Author" and "The Bald Bandit." The other day at the library, he was pulling out the last few books in the series. "So, here's the Xed-Out X-Ray, The Yellow Yak Hat and The Zombie Zone." Having never heard of a yak hat, I said, "Yak hat? What's a yak hat?" "I don't know, but I think it's a hat you wear on a boat," he said. "A hat you wear on a boat?" I said. "Why would you think that?" "Well, there's a picture of a boat on the cover!" At which I point I actually looked at the book:
I don't know about you, but I think a yak hat sounds kind of awesome. I don't look that great in yellow, though.
2. A few weeks ago, Larry was out of town and the Bomber, who senses weakness with predatory skill of a wolf pack, got me to buy him one of those small toys you see hanging on clips in the juice and snack aisles at the supermarket. (Thanks SO much, Publix...) This one in particular is an alien made with polyacrylamide or something similar (I looked that up, by the way) that makes it expand up to 600% when placed in water. H-bomb is FASCINATED with this thing. He soaked it in a pitcher of water for almost a week and checked its progress daily. Then he took it out, let it shrink back to its original size, and started again, this time measuring the starting size and maximum size achieved.
Until a few a days ago, it was floating around in my downstairs bathroom, looking a little like that Area 51 scene in Independence Day:
"Release meeeeee." At least it's not projecting psychic orders to die into my brain. Yet.
3. At bedtime, the Bomber likes to have his reading light on and some music playing from his MP3 player, so one of us usually goes in there later and turns them both off. The other night, Larry went in and discovered him asleep on his back, with a book open over his face. The next morning I joked about him falling asleep with a book on his head, and he said "Oh, I did that on purpose. I like to do that in case I wake up in the middle of the night and want to read without having to pull my hands out from under the covers." Oh sure. That makes perfect sense. Uh huh.
4. A completely gratuitous picture: