Seems like less than a week ago that I was stuffing my foot in my mouth at a take-out pizza joint. I swear it's not my fault. My boys have to stop setting my up.
Yesterday, The Pony and I arrived home to find Juno, the little puppy who won't grow, prancing around the porch. She has a sparkle in her eye now. She's a feisty one. I stood on the sidewalk to handwrestle her, while The Pony took a seat on an old cooler. No sooner had we started a rousing game of Puppy, Puppy, Who Tickles the Puppy than Genius inserted himself into our midst.
"Look! See what I've been working on?" He thrust a stick in my face. A stick. Like a small limb off a dead tree. He had called me while I was still at school, waiting to pick up The Pony after Academic Team, to ask if he could go to the barn and use the saw for a project. He IS sixteen now. I told him that he had to wear safety glasses, and not to go lopping of any fingers. And that his dad would be home within the hour, so if there was an accident, he should crawl out to the goat pen so he would be noticed.
I backed away from the stick. Genius poked it in my face again. "Hold it. Touch my wand. Feel the wood."
I let that slide. My only audience was The Pony, and Genius himself. "That sounds kind of inappropriate. After that incident holding your brother's balls in Little Caesars, I am on the lookout for phrases that might incriminate me."
"Heh, heh. Here. Feel this one. It's Hermione's wand. Isn't it cool?"
"Looks to me like Hermione has too much spare time on her hands. And what's with you, anyway. It's a stick. Not a cure for cancer. Why do I always have to admire every little thing you do? You sawed the freakin' end off a stick. Whoop-ti-doo!"
"I'm going to sand it. So it's smooth. Like Hermione's. Feel it! The way it balances! I need a way to dry it out."
"There's a whole treeload of wands right back there. Drag that tree over to the barn and whittle it down to a single wand. That should keep you busy. That would be something to admire. But not this. Picking up a stick and sawing the end off it."
"But how can I dry it?"
"Lay it in the sun."
"The dogs will chew on it."
"Um. Put it up on something where they can't get it. Like the top of the dumpster."
"The sun won't dry it."
"Well, you're not putting it in the oven. The sun will have to do."
"Isn't it great? Hold it!"
I proffered the wand to Juno. Who thought it was just a stick. She picked it up by one end and trotted over to The Pony. He tossed it, and she brought it back.
"Hey! That's not fair. She used to like ME best. And that's MY wand!"
"Well, you didn't see her all last week because you stayed after school and went to the games. She doesn't know you any more. The Pony lets her out of her pen and feeds her. You could have played with her this afternoon instead of your wand."
It took all of my willpower to refrain from saying, "Instead of fondling your wand."
Genius and two of his buddies are going to dress up as Harry, Hermione, and Ron for the NHS Halloween dance. Hermione's mom is making robes for all of them. Genius has never picked up a Harry Potter book. He watched one movie on TV. Last month.
But he's sure mesmerized by the wand.