"Mommy, come out here!"
"Mommy, it's a perfect rainbow!"
We had just finished homework, piano practice and a completely fruitless, hour-long search for the perfect ninja costume, the perfect storm trooper costume, and the perfect Hawkeye costume. Mommy was done.
And who in the hell is Hawkeye, you ask?
Well, when you take your young children to see movies that are the antithesis of age appropriateness, you are introduced to a broad assortment of uber-violent, weapon wielding, cursing, oft-times sexual, completely fictional, and apparently highly aspirational action heroes. Action heroes that in spite of your four decades on the planet, you somehow never even knew existed.
Hawkeye is not the lookout guy with the glasses from M*A*S*H's 4-0-77th, though he is older than me (his only redeeming quality at this point). Hawkeye was birthed by Marvel in 1966 and became a member of the Avengers team in the eponymous 2012 summer blockbuster. And he has one hell of a bow and arrow, if you ask Vince.
None and I mean NONE of the ready-to-wear Hawkeye costumes that are available in size 8 are acceptable.
"Did you see that bow and arrow, Mommy?" He asked over and over, rhetorically, as we skimmed catalogue after catalogue, and website after website.
"It's garbage. That bow and arrow isn't even metal and those arrows aren't even sharp."
"You can't bring the weapons to school, anyway." I try to appeal to Vince's sense of reason. The sense of reason he has locked away deep down inside. I know it's in there. He's just waiting for the right time to reveal it.
"That just doesn't make sense." He tells me. "Hawkeye isn't Hawkeye without his bow and arrow."
"Maybe Daddy can make you a bow and arrow?" I offer, apparently without thinking.
"What is he going to use? Suction cups?" Vince rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness of the thought. I mean what self-respecting, seven year-old would be caught dead using suction cup arrows for his Hawkeye Halloween costume?
"Can Daddy make a bow and arrow out of metal?"
The sad part is I actually took a second to process this suggestion. As far as I know, Jeff is not secretly supplementing our household income with metal welding jobs on the side but if he was...
"And what will he make the stretchy part out of?" Vince isn't letting this go.
"I don't know. A rubber-band?"
Why did I start this?
"What rubber-band? I haven't seen a rubber-band that big. Have you, Mommy?"
"I don't know, Vince. Go ask Daddy. He's in the garage."
I know that one day his steadfastness, his relentlessness, his "dog-on-a-bone" persistence will serve him well. But right now, Mommy is tired. All I want to do is make dinner to the sights and sounds of the idiot box (TV).
"Mommy, come on! The rainbow will go away!"
I reluctantly press pause on the remote and follow my eager sons outside where we stand together on the wet driveway gazing skyward.
"Look Mommy, it goes from there," Nicky points up toward one end of the rainbow. "To there."
"It's the perfect rainbow." Vince says.
Jeff is standing behind us in the front yard taking a couple pictures.
"It really is a good rainbow, honey." My husband echoes his sons' sentiments.
"It is." I give them all a broad smile. "I'm glad you showed it to me." I confess.
I pause for a moment to revel in the first cool, damp evening of fall before I turn and walk back into the house, leaving them to bask in the magic and wonder of pots of gold and leprechauns.
Safely back in the kitchen, I pick up the remote and press play after I check the not quite boiling pot of water on the stove.
"MOMMY!" Vincie bursts through the door.
"Yes, Vincie." My tone is one of complete exasperation. But ain't nothing gonna breaka Vincie's stride.
"Why are there only three colors in a rainbow?" He asks.
"Why don't you ask…"
He cuts me off before I can finish my attempt at deflecting.
"I asked Daddy and he doesn't know. He said something about primary colors but it doesn't make sense. Can we Google it?"
I am officially done. I raise my voice.
"Not right now. I'm making dinner. Go outside with Daddy and look at the rainbow again before it goes away!"
"FINE!" Vince storms back out the door in a huff.
Little does he know, mommy is the original DOG and in this moment, Wednedsay night's Modern Family episode on the Tivo is her bone!
|Someday we'll find it, The Rainbow Connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me (sort of).|
...and the ages old debate continues:
Kermit vs. Wille
Willie'sRainbowConnection (start at 2:00)
What do you think?