This week, my teen has been working on finishing the writing portion of his senior project paper, “American Car Culture.” Thursday night—the night before it was due—Cole and I ditched sleep in a collaborative effort to put the final touches on it. No procrastination, this time, he just wasn’t ready to let it go. Cole researched, double checked, and wrote while I brewed tea, poured milk to pair with cookies, ordered Chinese food and played the role of consultant.
Cole: Mom, can I compare the Corvette to Marylyn Monroe?
Me: What is the comparison?
Cole: Marylyn Monroe was a big deal around the time the Corvette was designed and they both had great bodies, looked good in white.
Me: I think you can make the comparison.
Cole: Only problem is, the first Corvette wasn’t very fast.
Me: Have some milk and cookies.
I came up with alternative words for spiffy. Cole felt he had overused it and was clear that in years to come he did not want to look back on his senior paper and think, “If only I had used the word spiffy a few less times.” I couldn’t disagree. Groovy?
Reading a portion of his paper aloud, I asked…
Me: Cole, what is a bevy?
Cole: Is this a test?
Me: No, I’ve never heard of a bevy being used this way.
Cole: Interesting. The lover of words and vocabulary does not know what a bevy is? A flock, a gathering, a lot of something. A bevy of cars. It’s a noun.
Me: Thank you my son, the wordsmith.
Cole: Can you use it in a sentence?
Thursday rolled into Friday. Cole printed his research paper, tucked it into his backpack, hugged me and left for school. From the door, I watched him walk away wanting to hang on to him for just a moment longer, as he walked under a tree, a clump of snow fell on him. As he shook the snow off, I could not resist asking from the doorway, “Cole, did a bevy of snowflakes just fall on you?”
He smiled. I did, too.
Odd Loves Company!