by Lord Covington
This week my son taught me to shut up and dance.
To set this up , realize that Lady Covington and I have were often been self described "White Trash Vegans" for many years. Think: deep fried breaded tofu! Its easy to be vegan without being healthy: french fries, Oreos, and Skittles are vegan. This, and our previous upbringings, have lead to an all too typical struggle with calories in this atypical vegan family. While I wasn't aware of it at the time, Lady C had had enough. I volunteered to make dinner that night, one of my both magnificent and humble curries. I make the sauce first, using curry powders, coconut, or rarely soy, milks etc, and olive oil. This particular time I was urged not to use any oil. I didn't understand why I shouldn't do something I had always done. She seemed angry with me. I didn't, I'm not proud to say, react well. I have a bit of a chip on my shoulder when it comes to cooking. Maybe because it is a skill I learned well into adult hood, or maybe it's because Lady Covington has always been better than me with an effortless grace, but I didn't react well. Her concerns were definitely coming from the right place, but it became a larger argument before we got to that. Living in a one room space means that Toddlesworth is always present for every argument, much to my inevitable dismay. This time, however, he had not only the last word, but the solution.
At what I would describe as the peak of tension, he climbed from the bed where he had been silently watching us. He dragged his music player we described here into the middle of the floor. He turned it on to the Rockin' Robin song he dances to. He then proceeded to pull me to the center of the rug by the hand, urging "come'n!" followed by Lady Covington. He then began to dance. What could we do? We danced. Tension defused.
After a few minutes of badly shuffling about my floor, I realized some things. One: crap: dancing is hard! Lady C was clearly correct, I need to be in better shape! Two, my son's personality is developing in ways that astound and make me proud. Maybe we weren't really having all that scary of an argument, but he didn't react in the "normal" kid way of shame/guilt/fear. I think he may just have been damn well tired of hearing it, and proposed a solution. A solution that the two adults responsible for teaching him how to be were, at that point, no where near reaching on their own.
I desperately hope that he never uses these powers for evil.