Next Friday, Halloween, is my nephew Cashel’s sixth birthday.
My sisters and I are piling into a car at 6 am on Saturday morning and driving up to Maine for his birthday party. We are buying him a telescope. A real one. One he can grow into. He is MR. Space – so I cannot wait for him to have it.
When Cashel was … maybe 4 years old … he turned to his dad, my brother, and announced, bluntly, “It’s all about space.”
Nobody needed to ask him what “it” referred to, because it was obvious.
Brendan promptly turned it into a kind of hypnotic Moby-esque rap song, with Cashel saying over and over and over and over again, “It’s all about space. It’s all about space. It’s all about space. It’s all about space.”
We used to BLAST that song, and dance around, with Cashel giggling like a maniac at the sound of his own voice.
My dear little boy. My heart melts!
Cashel used to be positively unable to say the letter “r”. He would contort his mouth into grotesque positions, and try to get the sound out, but finally, he ended up compromising, settling on the sound “ee”.
“Auntie Sheila, let’s go in the wat-ee!”
It was hilarious.
But best of all, and going along with the space theme, was the time when Cashel, who was sitting on my lap, both of us having come back from the beach, he was having some juice, and facing out, his little blonde head turned away from me.
But suddenly, with no warning, Cashel craned his neck around to stare up at me, and said the following:
“Auntie Sheila, 8 billion yee-ees ago, an asteeyoid cee-yashed into the ee-eath, and made a big kee-yay-tee, killing all the dinosau-ees.”
A couple weeks ago, when he and I strolled through the Meteor section in the Museum of Natural History, I turned to him, and said that, word for word, imitating his pronunciation – He doesn’t quite remember the moment, but he knows that that was who he used to be, and he thinks that it is DAMN funny.
His favorite part, as is mine, is his butchering of the word “crater” into an 8-syllable extravaganza: kee-yay-tee….
So this little Spaceman is gonna get himself a telescope from the 3 Aunties.
That’s what he calls us: “the Aunties.” “Where are the Aunties right now?” “I’m going swimming with the Aunties.”
We are one.
Being a former 6 year old boy he’ll definately freak over getting a real scope. What kind is it? I promise I won’t tell. :)
Well, since Cashel is not reading my blog yet – we can discuss this! My sister Jean was going to go to a Discovery store yesterday to pick one up – we don’t know anything about telescopes. We just know we don’t want a kiddie telescope – we want a good one.
Any suggestions?
Is that store the same as this?http://shopping.discovery.com
If it is then the scopes they have for beginners are perfect. If not then, considering you mentioning a ‘real telescope’, I’m sure you guys won’t go wrong with your choice for his gift.
Yes – it’s the chain store Discovery – there’s one in a big mall near my sister’s house.
So I suppose they shall have what I need!
Can’t wait to see the little man’s face.
I liked today’s Cashel update. My mother reliably informs me that, when I was two or so, I used to sing “In the Midnight Hour” (Wilson Pickett version) using the vacuum cleaner cord (unplugged, put that phone down, no need to call Children & Family Services) as a microphone. Apparently I sang “I’m gonna wait to the mim-mite how-ee!”
Ken:
HAHAHAHA
“hou-ee” ha!!!
Also, hello with the hip-ness of singing “In the Midnight Hour” at that age! Like a toddler Big Chill moment.
Occasionally, I still use my curling iron as a microphone.
But don’t tell anybody.