Posts Tagged ‘ LOCH ’

The Boy With The Dangling Tooth

Wednesday, August 8th, 2012

“The Boy With The Dangling Tooth”

“Loch has a morbid fear of blood!” my daughter says.

My grandson has a dangling front tooth, empty on either side. He won’t twist it or work it. He is afraid it will bleed, so he lets it hang. It’s been hanging for weeks, now.

Loch is 6 years old. He and his 9 year old sister Lexi are visiting me for 3 days.

Today, as I’m pulling a tee shirt over his head he starts to scream. The tee shirt has yanked on his tooth…and the tooth is bleeding.

Loch is screaming, “Get me a mirror! Get me a mirror!”

In light of his ‘morbid fear of blood,’ I don’t think this is a good idea. Loch runs to the bathroom and grabs a red bath towel off the rod. He jams it against his tooth and runs into the ‘kid’s room’ that has a wall of mirrored closets.

He drops the bath towel from his mouth and takes a look. A great wail arises.

There is BLOOD on The Tooth!

Loch drops to the floor in front of the mirror moaning, with the towel again covering his face. (more…)

Felt Like Pooping Lately?

Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

http://www.artmojos.com

 

This is not a story about fish. It’s more about toilets, but we will get to that.

One day my daughter Summer and I take the kids to an Asian Market.

It’s true that the kids are overwhelmed by the fish.

Loch, who is five, is fascinated by all the rows of multi-colored dead fish on ice. He is exuberant about the live blue crabs which keep waving their legs in the air while trying to crawl out of their tub. Most of all he is mesmerized by the live lobsters and various swimming fish in tanks, waiting to be plucked for someone’s dinner.

Nine-year-old Lexi is impressed by all the severed fish heads with their frantic bulging eyes and festive teeth, while in another long case I am disconcerted by by all the animal parts. Tripe, brains, knuckles, tongues, stomachs, spleens and splintered bones are laid out in haphazard ways.

I gulp and feel suddenly intrigued by vegetarianism. The animal parts strewn about have made me, a Primitive Meat Eater, go kind of glinzty.

Aside from the fish and the bloody animal piles, there is lots of other stuff, foreign to our American eyes.

Row by row with our rolling cart, we all wander and look at unusual products.

I  toss fish powders and some seaweed soup mixes into the basket.

We get a few fresh but unknown vegetables that we won’t know what to do with when we get home with them.

The store is dirty.

The kids are excited and curious as we wind our way up and down the aisles between fire crackers and bags of various dried mushrooms and jars of fish paste.

Loch suddenly yells, “Why does everyone here have brown skin and we have white skin!?”

Then he begins (and won’t stop singing) Hanuaka songs in a loud voice…and we are not Jewish.

The store is dirty and packed with people and suddenly I have to pee. (more…)

WEED WHACKERS AND CIGARS

Thursday, October 15th, 2009

The trunk of my car pops open and I peer into the cavern as I start to toss in my groceries. Yikes and eeeeh gads! There’s a small black snake in the trunk, a little snake with white spots, an open mouth and wide eyes. It’s looking at me.

I jump back, reach to the ground and pick up a little stick. Carefully, I dish up the snake and turn it over. I know it’s not a real snake. I know it’s a plastic fake because my grandkids, Loch and Lexi are here. I know the fake snake was left in the car trunk when I hauled all their clothes and toys out of here a few days ago…but still, a snake is a snake and I need to make double, double sure.

It’s been three days with Loch and Lexi and here’s how it’s going.

My ex-boyfriend Bill, still lives in my studio and is what we call the kids Extra Grandpa. They love him and he loves them.

Tonight, he huffs into my bedroom at the back of the house and says, “I can’t find my cigars. I just went uptown and got them several hours ago and they cost me $20 and I can’t find them!”

He looks at me, meaningfully.

I rush to defend myself. “I don’t have them!”

Bill says, “Lexi says she saw Loch take them out of my desk drawer and they aren’t there now.”

“I can’t believe that,” I say. “I didn’t see him with any cigars and Lexi doesn’t always get her facts straight. She’s only six.”

The Drama unfolds. Bill asks Loch where his cigars are. Loch says he doesn’t know. Lexi says “Yes, you do Loch. You took them out of Bill’s drawer.”

Loch shakes his white curly hair indignantly and says, “I did ┬ánot!” He looks affronted.

Lexi rummages through all the trash cans, Bill checks Loch’s bed and toy bin. He scouts his house and mine looking under books and behind pillows. This continues for at least half an hour with much yelling between Loch and Lexi while Bill huffs and puffs and bangs a few doors open and shut.

Lexi continues to insist that she saw Loch take the cigars while Loch vigorously defends his honor.

I continue to say Loch is not guilty. After all, if a three year old boy found some fresh cigars don’t you think he would be doing something with them? (more…)


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