Jake isn’t much of a talker. Out of my three kids, he’s the one that’s the biggest mystery to me. I see things in him though that remind me of myself when I was young, so I get it. And considering that communication with Jake often consists of things like, “I’m going to work, bye,” I always feel fortunate when he occasionally feels more chatty.
So I was working at my desk yesterday when my phone rang. I picked it up and was greeted with, “You’ve got to stop cleaning these windows with Windex!”
Immediately detecting a note of humor in Jake’s voice, I was pleasantly surprised.
“I don’t clean them with Windex,” I said. (I have a special cleaning cloth for glass.) “Wait, what windows,” I asked?
“The front ones.”
He was going to make me work for this. “And why should I not be cleaning them?”
“Because,” he said. “I was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal and watching the t.v. in the living room when I heard a huge thud against the window. Scared the crap out of me!”
I was laughing by now. “What was it?”
“A Blue Jay.”
“Is it dead?”
“No, I don’t think so. He fell down in the grass but he’s moving around.“
“Okay,” I said. “Well, keep an eye on him, I guess. I don’t want a dead Blue Jay laying in the yard.”
“Mom, I can’t keep him from dying!”
“I just mean that if he does die, scoop him up and throw him in the trash barrel or something. I’ll feel bad if he dies and I see him laying there dead.”
“I don’t think he’s gonna die,” Jake said. “I think he’s just stunned.”
“Good,” I said. “Well, much as I’d love to continue discussing birds who fly into windows, I need to go back to work.”
“Okay,” Jake said. I could still hear the laughter in his voice. Man, it’s good to hear him that way. I worry about him sometimes. He’s so … inside himself most of the time.
When I came home from work, there was no dead Blue Jay in my yard. Pretty sure he’s got a whopper of a headache, wherever he is.
Come to think of it, you’d think these guys would get headaches too: