Late last night, I was pulling my hair out looking for a file I'd misplaced by frantically scanning through backup CDs burned over the course of a number of different years. We've all done this, I guess. It's the cyber version of tearing the house apart looking for our car keys. In the end I didn't find what I was looking for, but I did find something so much better.
I found my son. To be more specific, I found a slew of three minute movies my then, seven or eight year old son had made while his mom was doing the dishes or cooking dinner. In those days the young man would have been so busted. Now that he's in his twenties - the potential embarrassment factor is delicious! And seeing his sweet little face pop-up in the dark grainy screen with such cheesy dialogue...just cracked me up. No mom could possibly erase these 'precious moments.' Nope. I plan to save them. Maybe even send them to family members cell phones, once I figure out the cell phone thing well enough...
He didn't let me carry pictures of him in my wallet when he was growing up, because and I quote, "Mom, that is sooo embarrassing. Someone will see!" For as outgoing a child as my son was, things were strictly regimented to eliminate any possible extra attention. He was a bit phobic about being in the spotlight. As a result, anytime I tried to take a picture of him, he disappeared into the background faster than a ghost on fade. The only one permitted to snap a pic was a designated grandparent, because, "you know, that's their job." Make that make sense.
So for Passover this year, I'm going to be passing out copies of his epic, nine-part mini series filmed in my old bedroom, featuring the whisper voiced detective clad in his dad's Laser-Tag gear, as he assaults my old wicker rocking chair for posterity's sake.
Ah motherhood, the gift the keeps on giving!
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