the Science Project

(word count 987)

    It was a Sunday evening and I was clearly performing an act of vital importance for my family.  Well, actually I don’t really remember what I was doing but I am sure it was important.  Okay, more than likely, it being Sunday night, I was laying on the couch reading the funnies with a beer I was drinking the beer, it was not reading the funnies with me, or perhaps a scotchneat.  The point is it was late Sunday night.  Our son, my wife’s and mine; I refuse to take full responsibility, an eighth grader at the time who was exceedingly successful at underachieving, approached me with an urgent question.

    “Most Respected Father,” he said okay, maybe he didn’t say that but I am sure that was what he was thinking.  Actually what he voiced was more along the lines of, “hey Dad, when are we going to get the pictures for my science project developed?” 

    “Hmnn” it’s hard to slur hmnn so I find it’s always a good opener, throws everyone off, “Brendan I don’t know, this week sometime I guess when is it due? I should have known better than to ask that particular question.

    “Oh Most Revered Father,” okay, he didn’t say that, but again I am fairly certain that’s what he meant to say.  What he actually said and my memory is extremely clear on this part  was, “Tomorrow.”

    My lovely wife was also in the room, and most likely doing something productive.  From her direction I heard a heavy sigh.  Then observed her head fall to her breast, as she calmly whispered “Oh Brendan.”

      Being the mature, compassionate, individual I am I said to myself ‘John, because that’s my name, John there are many different ways to turn this into a valuable learning experience for your son’.  Alright that’s not what I thought, but, in my defense I was thinking.  Well, I might not have been thinking but I am mature.  Okay I am old and maturity has nothing to do with age.  Which for some unknown reason people keep pointing out to me?

    What I actually said was “Did you say tomorrow?”  I probably said that kind of loud.

    Brendan looked at me with a sincerely repentant look.  “Yes, tomorrow, is something wrong Most Wise Father?”  Yes, I know that is not exactly what he said just let me have this one fantasy okay?  Well there are couple others I would like to keep also if you have no objection, but I am absolutely, without a doubt, sure that is what he meant to say.

    What he did say was “Yeah,” with a, ‘what’s the big deal?’  Look.

    I must admit that at this point my limitless patience was being sorely tested.  I probably was no longer reclining on the coach.  In fact, I may have been standing up.  And, I am pretty sure I wasn’t thinking much of anything.  Well I was probably thinking, ‘it’s time for a scotch’ double, and leave the bottle.  What came out my mouth was: “You’re aware it’s 8:30 on a Sunday night right?  You know we live at the edge of the colonized world right?  It didn’t occur to you that maybe, just perhaps this is something that should have been taken care of – oh…I don’t know - maybe yesterday?  Or, God forbid, during the week?”

At this point, regardless of what I had been drinking, I was heading for the scotch.  “Brendan you are going to have to wait until at least tomorrow afternoon, what the hell were you thinking?”  I actually said that aloud.

    Okay, I am not going to pretend here, I’ll just tell you what he said “But, it’ll be late.”  There is nothing that can be added to that statement.

    Luckily for my son, okay and me too, his mother who I often wonder about, my wife is a truly mature individual and will more than likely be canonized by the Catholic Church before her work here is complete stepped in.  She said, “Brendan there’s nowhere to develop your pictures now, everywhere is closed.”

    As I was busy fumbling with the bottle of scotch a confused look of comprehension crossed my offspring’s previously vacant face.  “What am I gonna’ do?”  He wailed.

    Now, I know better than this, but it happened before I knew it, I laughed.  I couldn’t help it, without thinking, a habit of mine, I started laughing, scotch halfway to my lips.  This pretty much silenced the room.  My son looked at me with an expression of, ‘how can you be so cruel as to laugh at me in my hour of need?  I’ve come to you for help and this is your response?’  That’s quite a bit to say in one quick expression, but he said it very effectively I might add.  My wife already noted as a lovely saint, his mother already noted as questionable, literally shot me a look that simply said ‘Be quiet, you moron.’

    Realizing at this point -- well maybe I didn’t realize it but I can take a not real subtle hint -- I sat down and concentrated on the label on my bottle.  I am pretty sure that what followed was several minutes of tender discussion between my wife who, as previously noted is lovely, and a darn good smoocher to boot and son who, despite all thoughts at the time, has grown into a fine man.

    Some sort of an agreement was reached between my son and his mother still questionable in certain mother type circumstances.  Between the looks received earlier, my disbelief in the conversation occurring, and the scotch probably mostly the scotch this part is a bit foggy, but I do know for a fact that the science project was turned in on time and received a passing grade.

    I specifically remember withdrawing from grading it at the regional science fair several weeks later.

(word count 987)