Here's the Big O, downing a bowl of spicy chicken ramen. I picked him up yesterday afternoon from a small school that includes home-schoolers in its special Friday program. Do you know that boy went, not knowing a soul, and came out all smiles? The day's activities and learning included the viewing of the great Jacques Tati's M. Hulot's Holiday. Honestly, who knew I'd be talking about a French movie with my twelve year old son, and so enthusiastically, particularly after the heightened drama of the last couple of months. He's been a whole lot of smiles of late, partly due, I'm sure, to the de-schooling that we're doing, and partly due to the fact that he's a smiler naturally, and he's just remembering how to do it. I feel a bit manic when I start talking about these two books I'm reading -- Deschooling Gently and The Teenage Liberation Handbook -- I imagine droves of people, even some of my closest friends, think I've gone completely off my rocker. Which I have, actually, at least regarding cigars and John Boehner.
Anywho.
Here's a conversation that the Big O and I had in the car on our way home from his wonderful day. As background, I'll reveal that Oliver had to go to the bathroom, really, really badly but there was too much traffic to stop the car, so he told me that he needed to just keep talking to stay distracted.
Mom, how DOES a girl pee, anyway? Where does it come out of? he asked.
Oliver! You know that! There's a small opening at the end of the urethra, I replied.
Oh, yeah! I remember that from those pictures we looked at in science class. You know, of the human body? All almost-teenagers' voices end in a question, right?
Exactly, I said.
Yeah, there's a hole there that's between two pieces of dough, squished together. He looked out the window.
Reader, I nearly wrecked the car and then just said what I've said at least 67,459,021 times during the last twelve years:
OLIVERRRRRR!
The main message from The School of Revolution, of course, is that things are actually quite hunky-dory normal in these parts.
