is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
This is what spoonerism should mean
Monday, March 23, 2009 I won't sugar-coat it: Lil E was hesitant to play with new kids.
And really, the kids weren't new. They are children in his class he's
known for months. He just hasn't played with them in the way he's
played with the boy buddies who know Star Wars like he does (now), love
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with the passion he has (today) and don't
understand why missiles that aim bats at The Riddler count as off-limit
weapon play (sigh). He doesn't know them as well and he still regularly
recites their full names and reports in on the news they share with the
class and if they are allergic to nuts. But that didn't make him less
hesitant.
We went to the playdate anyway. We met a boy and a girl from his class,
and their mothers. And he dove in, pulling up his own little chair to
the snack table and finding a toy that he could protectively guard with
one hand and play with in the other. I heard him laughing when I left
the room to sit with the other mothers over a glass (or two) of wine and a big bowl of fishy crackers.
I was getting to know the moms a little more and he was getting to know
the kids better, each from different sides of the house, Lil E with
Capri Sun and me with a full glass of shiraz. He was watching Wall-E
and hording trucks filled with Legos. I was talking IUDs and organic
snacks. We were on the same mission with polar plans of attack. I
hoped, as I laughed and forgot the time back in the kitchen, that he
his hesitance had faded, that he was having fun.
Then, out of some snarky story about some kooky parent and the laughter
that followed, I heard nothing. It's always the silence from the room
with the kids are that startles the most, so I carefully placed my
glass on the table and headed in to see what was happening in there.
The boy was playing happily on the floor with the truck Lil E had
earlier. And my son, in all of his 4-year-old hyperdrive energy and
hesitation, was stretched out on the couch, with the little girl from
his class snuggled up in front of him.
They were quite cozy. I asked if everything was OK, and they nodded,
barely moving their eyes from the last scenes of the movie to
acknowledge me. He was comfortable. A little close and couched up, but
comfortable.
I thought of this when I read my dictionary word of the day: Spoonerism.
The definition isn't an exact match, but somehow, it works. The transposition of initial or other sounds of words, usually by accident.
Something had transposed there, just after snacks and just before it was really - no, really this time - time to go. Something spoonerized. And it had nothing to do with Star Wars or sharing trucks or scooching up to a tiny table.
"So, I saw you snuggling with your friend on the couch." I left it
open. Didn't want to question. Was really just curious to hear how he'd
respond.
He threw up a hand in the air and gave me a look like I had stumbled upon the least big deal in the world.
"Hey," he said, opening his palm to the sky. "She's a good cuddler."
And there it was, an accidental connection, a casual transposition.
Just a quiet moment between two kids...and another kid, and movie, and
their moms, a pile of flat cartons of juice and a few half-finished
bottles of wine. Two kids taking a chance to spoonerize on the couch.
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