Imagine All the Things

In keeping with the spirit of my last two posts, in which I related two conversation bits I'd jotted down, here's another little snippet, probably from sometime in May of 2008. It's tiny, but before I get to it, here is a Kiernan quote that appears at the top of the same pad of paper. It appears unrelated to the conversation bit that will follow, and it was written in pen, whereas the conversation bit was written in pencil. So clearly the quote was uttered at a different time.

Here is the quote:

"My parents smell like garlic."

I don't know why on earth I'm sharing this with you all. But there it is.

Onto the conversation bit:

K: Daddy, sometimes I imagine things.

X: Like what?

K: Water and mud. People that are broken. Oranges. Lemons. Chocolate--I LOVE IT!--and you!

--pause--

K: Ice cream in chunks!

--pause--

K: Sometimes I also imagine M-O-M-M-Y going to Book Club.

I'm thinking this mini-conversation took place in the midst of Kiernan going to sleep. It has that kind of twilight feel to it. That sort of drowsy reasoning people employ when they are just about asleep but aren't quite there. It's got that cute element that is the hallmark of a lot of sleeptalking, but it also has that prophetic weirdness that seems to sneak in from time to time in unconscious babbling. I can actually recall, now that I'm typing this, feeling a chill when he said, "People that are broken."

I've gotten that chill a couple of times from things that Kiernan has said. A sort of T.S. Eliot/M. Night Shyamalan [back when he was a coherent filmmaker for a film and a half] chill. Luckily that passes, as a mention of "Chocolate...I love it!" is never far behind.

Incidentally, the picture at the top of this post is one Wendy took at my sister Hope's wedding. It is not directly related to this little anecdote, but it really works for me here.

[Point of Clarification: With regard to the "M-O-M-M-Y" above. Sometimes Kiernan will spell out our names when he is calling out for us as he falls asleep. Other times too, but especially when he's falling asleep. As in, "Mommy...I need some water. M-O-M-M-Y...I NEED SOME WATER!" I haven't quite figured out what logic compels him to spell out our names at these times. I'm working on it. Also, it should be said that he might just as likely have said this same thing about me to Wendy, as I go out to a silly video game playing club one night a week, and Wendy's book club only takes place once every six weeks or so. I just don't want to lay out the impression that Wendy is forever out carousing with her good-for-nothing book loving friends.]