I didn’t get to write last night. The first time in almost a month.
Crisis happened in my immediate family. Everyone’s safe, don’t worry, but I believe in principalities. Thusly, I mean it when I say all hell is breaking loose, nice, slow and steady.
So, when my youngest son’s lava-lamp science experiment exploded all over the carpet in his room, it was a welcome relief.
“Paaaaaaul!! What’s in this … THHIIING!”
I’m painfully holding a giant water bottle with blue food coloring that’s fizzing out of its cap, one eye squinched shut. I’m convinced the pressure in this guy is about to propel this bottle out of my hands. I’m visualizing an action film, giant exploding oxygen tanks thrown off the back of a speeding truck as the good guys try to avert the bad guys. How am I thinking this at 8 o’clock at night when I’m in my jammies, just putting away laundry? It must’ve been the vibes of the boys’ room.
“Just some kinda oil, cooking oil, I think, and some food coloring and water,” Paul chatters quickly. He’s run in from the kitchen, eyes sparkling. In his mind, he’s front and center at a 4th of July fireworks display.