I'm playing with it

For some reason, the paperback novel "Prey" by Michael Crichton seems to be a silly toy for my seven year old son. He throws it in the air and laughs "I'm playing with it!".

Tonight at tiger cubs we had a cannonball. The kids would head out into a course with made-up cardboard boxes on them, to the fuel station, through the car wash and on towards the pit stop where they had to change tires (take off their shoes and put yours on). It was a riot.

When we were making his car I looked down and noticed he'd written "Cub Oil" on the side. We circled it. Sponsored at age 7. And he took third place. I think he should have gotten second, since second place actually crashed.

But I put him out with a fire extinguisher. Meanwhile my daughter is beginning to get heavily into "Eragon". Its fun to casually remark, as a matter of fact that dragons are born blue .."But they turn red as they get older". Her eyes get wide. She really does suspect there is still magic in the world.

If two numbers are even, say, a, and b. Prove that a+b is even.

That was the problem they opened with, in numerical analysis. Proofs are a sort of play to the people I went to school with. How much has math been a part of me. And how much have I changed. I had to work at it. It takes a long time. How really dedicated to the problem . How long it has been until that still small voice said within that you're ready. You are finally ready. And that light will spread once it is brought into the world. How wonderful to be there when it happens.

And I have finally learned how to sing. I miss my wife. I hope she is well. I heard she was teaching.

The rain is falling now. I will go downstairs to read with my little ones. And my son is not allowed to throw my book into the air and say "I'm playing with it". We will smile. He's got a book he's reading for his A/R. And my daughter is upstairs poring over stories of Dragons written by sixteen year olds.

I'm playing with you. And everything around me. My mind. My life. The lives of my children. And its alot of fun. Its serious play. Focussed, hard play - almost driven to the point that for some it seems as if its not. But it is.

I miss you.


...you know what that means...