retrofitted

Today Sequoia and I walked to a cafe and hung out with a neighborhood kid who deflected a whole "reading" interrogation I was conducting (I can't help myself, I'm constantly making the literature equivalent of illegal search and seizure stops with kids) by suddenly mentioning that he can draw "anything." Challenge on.

I happened to have four, count 'em four, different colored pens in my purse. Totally felt like a college student-slash-overprepared mom-type at that moment. (Does anyone else remember that Sesame Street episode where Maria's mom visits and, in a conversation with Oscar the Grouch, pulls out a bar of soap from her purse? Maria reacted with, "Ma, do you always keep a bar of soap in your purse?" which doesn't sound funny when you read it in a blog, but at the time I nearly died laughing because Mrs. Figueroa reminded me so much of my own mom. ) So anyway this kid set to work drawing dogs and flowers and extremely cool cars with "spinners," and I suppose you know what "spinners" means although I didn't know the name of them before.

Then he ceremoniously announced that he was going to draw my house. He was (heroically, in my mind) unperturbed by the fact that he's never seen my house. The drawing he presented had rainclouds, a star, and a dollar sign drawn onto the roof. I asked if those were for good luck. I could totally tell by his hesitation that I had read way more into them than he intended, but he was game to humor me. "Yeah," he nodded, and then said, "and now I'll draw a circle around your house. This will keep the monsters away."

How fucking lucky am I? A lifetime monster repellent, absolutely free of charge, and which, as I interpret it, can be applied to any house even loosely defined as "mine." I immediately experienced a peace of mind previously unknown to me.

And I can confidently report that no monster has yet crossed the fearsome barrier.