The Dynamic Duo

Today is Johnny’s 25th Birthday. Ah, Johnny, what can I say? He’s an angel. No, not a trail angel like Paddy-O. No, not like that song, you know the one…...(music notes) “Johnny Angel, How I love him, how I tingle when he passes by, Every time he says ‘Hello’ my heart begins to fly….......” , but wait…....did I say Angel? What I meant to say was “Angle” Definition: To give a specific aspect or point of view to. or Where two straight lines converge. Well, not so much the second one, though if my brain were a little more functional, I could probably some up with something, but definitely the first. I say this because there is nobody who can better tell a story or express his viewpoint more convincingly than Johnny. I can rarely out- logic him, and if I am in danger of doing that very thing, he wears me down with evasive, circular reasoning until I throw in the towel.
Johnny was born when he was very young. (Sorry, that was one of my dad’s favorite lines, and I just had to throw it in.) He actually has a semi-famous birthday because also born on that day (though much earlier) was Smokey, the only dog my family ever had while I was growing up. Smokey was a very temperamental Chihuahua-Terrier. He bit me several times, threw up on me more than once, and much preferred my parents to any of us, but still, as our one and only dog, we adored him. Ah, Smokey. He’s an angel…........or at least I hope so. He’s been gone for quite some time. But wait a minute, this was supposed to be about JOHNNY, not the dog. We’ll have to devote an entire post to Smokey in the future, but for now, Smokey, roll over.
Johnny, at close to 8 lbs, was my biggest baby. He had a brother and sister at home already, and a younger brother back there in the wings somewhere, but he was the baby for a few years. Several things come quickly to mind when I think about Johnny as a baby and child. Generally he was very content. He could play by himself for hours, unlike Bob, who wanted a playmate or an audience for most of his endeavors. He used to sit on the teeter-totter of the swing set his Grandma Wesley had bought for the kids and swing back and forth while singing at the top of his lungs such classics as “I’m a giant…...........A gi-gi-gi-gi giant.” (music notes) or “All you gotta do is E-I-O….........E-I-E-I-E-I-O….......”. I’m sure there were more, but those are the only ones to have survived my capricious memory. He would sit and build block towers or make things with building sets or play in the dirt. Generally very easy going. But when he got his back up, he could be soooooooooo stubborn. One time I remember I was the carpool mother of the day for Johnny’s Kindergarten class, and Johnny was counting as we drove his classmates to their various homes. It all sounded pretty good until he got to 199………..”one hundred ninety eight, one hundred ninety nine, one thousand.” “No, Johnny,” I gently corrected, “After one hundred ninety nine comes two hundred.” “It does NOT,” he stubbornly asserted, sticking out his lower lip. I let it go, but a while later he started counting again. “One hundred ninety eight, one hundred ninety nine, two hundred.” He knew I was right, but just couldn’t admit that he was wrong!
I usually very much enjoy Johnny’s sense of humor, and when he was in 5th grade, he had a teacher who perhaps appreciated his wit even more than I did. Good thing too, cause some of his comments teetered on the edge on insurrection. This teacher would actually call me sometimes to relate some comment he had made. One time, Ms. Losser (for such was her name), asked Johnny to pass out some papers. He declined, and rather than argue, she began to pass them out herself. “See what happens when you ask a boy to do a man’s job?” she said. “Yes,” he answered, “A woman ends up doing it.” It was lucky for Johnny she thought he was funny. More than a little truth in that statement, actually…......
Johnny has always been very much his own person, and, as his Aunt Joy once said, “walks to the beat of a different drummer.” I know, I know, it’s a cliché, but really does seem to apply in this case. John can be forthright to the point of near rudeness, but when it counts he is thoughtful and considerate.
It sometimes comes to my attention, and very forcibly today, that I really don’t understand men all that well (who ever could?). I know that I like to be remembered on my birthday, and decided it would be fun to order a nice cactus garden or other manly arrangement to be delivered to Johnny at his office on his birthday. The main thing that stopped me was the price, so instead I sent a free online e-card. When I mentioned this to Jim, he informed me that was pretty much the worst idea ever, and something that John would very much NOT like. Johnny confirmed that today, and said even the e-card really wasn’t necessary. Did he even care if I remembered his birthday? “Take a clue from your husband,” he replied, “he can’t even remember his own birthday.” “But when I called Jim on his birthday, I could tell he was really glad to hear from us.” “Yes,” Johnny said, “but remember what I keep telling you about Jim. He is very girlish.”
One of my joys, especially in the last several years, has been to witness the close relationship between my children, and how highly they regard each other, even though their interests and aptitudes are so different. It was so much fun playing games and interacting with my three of my young adults last Thanksgiving, though the fourth was sorely missed. Johnny is the spark that kept everything lively and everyone suitable insulted. But he can equally handle being at the other end of the joke, which is all the better.
After securing a Criminal Justice degree at Boise State with high honors, and trying a little stint of living in another country (more specifically Japan), John has now decided to pursue a degree in law. He did very, very well on the LSAT, and has been throwing himself into his law school application process with his usual thoroughness. I am so proud of him it sometimes takes my breath away.
“Johnny Angel, how I love him…………” maybe that’s not so far off after all.
And whether you care or not, HAPPY BIRTHDAY. You are well worth remembering.

UltraMom

Guess who carved this pumpkin all by himself?