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Here at Chez Star, some of the apples haven’t fallen far from the trees. Isabelle can be so infuriatingly like me that Davie-O calls her “Mini-Mom”. A woman stopped me at the pool last week and told me that if she hadn’t seen the three boys standing next to each other before they hopped into the pool, she would have sworn I had triplets because they look so much alike.
Davie-O has lots of characteristics that amuse me. He’s charming and funny, and can usually successfully microwave most items. He also has lots of little quirks that add to the whole package. He prefers bowls over plates, and spoons over forks. He couldn’t navigate his way out of a paper bag with a GPS and a searchlight. And he falls down on an appallingly regular basis.
When we were first married, I’d hear him fall down and I KNEW he had just dropped dead of an aneurysm. I’d rush into whatever room I’d heard the racket from and he’d be jumping up and getting back to whatever activity it was that caused him to fall over, like walking over to the bookshelf.
This happens a lot, and it got to the point where I just couldn’t take the adrenaline rush anymore. So I trained Davie-O to yell out after gravity had finished taking it’s toll. Just a simple “I’m OK” to let me know that the stroke/heart attack/partial paralysis I kept imagining wasn’t real. Now I hear the crash, and pause my activities until I hear the inevitable “I’m OK!”.
As Mason gets older, he is moving from being a lot like his dad to being a clone of his dad. It’s seriously disconcerting some times; he will say or do things that stop both Davie-O and I in our tracks. It appears that that apple has fallen exceedingly close to the tree. But, for an apple to fall close to a tree, it first has to fall.
Sadly, Mason inherited the entire falling-down gene from his dad. We weren’t fully aware of this until recently; it seems that the onset of puberty has kicked this gene into action. The kid has started falling down ALL THE TIME. While he’s doing NOTHING. Just like his dad.
The other evening Davie-O and I were sitting in his new office chatting. We heard a huge clatter on the stairs, the proverbial “oh, oh, oh” that usually goes along with someone falling down. Neither of us got out of our chairs. We waited, looking at each other. Then, without any prompting, a cheerful “I’m OK!”.
I can’t wait to see how many more Star apples repeatedly fall this close to the tree.
