Friday night, as the Old Lady and I were watching the fucking mind-exploding opening ceremony of the Olympics, I hit the "record" button on the ol' DVR, thinking, "You know, the spawnage should see this. They might really dig it." Of course, I also thought, "Right, like they'll really give a carp -- they'll get bored after 30 seconds and then ask if they can turn on the goddamn Wii." But, since recording it didn't require any more exertion than moving my thumb two centimeters to the right on the remote, I figured I'd put forth the effort.
Cut to last night, after dinner, when the spawnage asked if they could watch one of the recorded "Brady Bunch" episodes. I suggested that, instead, we should all watch the "really awesome" Olympics opening ceremony, to which they responded with an enthusiastic, "Aww... c'mon... wah, stupid, bleh...." The Old Lady and I worked fucking hard to sell it to them -- "Ooh, look -- 2008 Tai Chi masters all moving in unison! Look how perfectly they're all lined up! Can you imagine how long they must've practiced to DO that?! HEY, A WHALE!"
But the spawnage weren't really buying it. They were all set to watch how Marcia transformed Molly Weber from a bespectacled nerd-flower into a totally fucking hot, macramé-sweater-filling sex-nymphlette. (And, frankly, who could blame them?)
But then that glowing blue earth-sphere emerged from the floor of the stadium, with those physics-defying equator-walkers flip-flopping around it, and those singers started belting out that song entitled, "If You Don't Cry at This, Then You Are a Heartless Human Husk," and Mr. Z and Miss O suddenly fell strangely mute.
We all stared silently at this insane Miyazaki-meets-Mario-Galaxy spectacle and before long, I look over at Mr. Z and he's wiping tears from his eyes. They were both saying things like, "OH MY GOD!" and "WHOA!" and the kid-friendly version of "WHATTHESHIT?!" and I could actually hear the sound of their tiny little lids flipping like they've never flipped before.
So, we watched the whole thing and then I sent Mr. Z upstairs to get ready for his shower, while I cleaned the kitchen. When I got up to the bathroom, he was standing there, basically sobbing into his towel. I thought something horrible had happened, like all of his Pokemon cards had spontaneously combusted or he had accidentally peed on his DS, so I asked him what was up. After a minute, he caught his breath and said, "That was just SO spectacular! It was just beautiful!"
It's so fucking incredible that Mr. Z feels stuff as strongly as he does. Sure, it can be a pain-in-the-shitter when he's flipping his lid because he thinks Miss O's staring at him funny or when he thinks we're picking on him when we're not, but to think of just how intensely he's experiencing the world around him -- I dunno, I guess since I'm not as evolved, emotionally, it seems pretty fucking cool.
I won't lie -- adolescence is gonna be fucking brutal. Especially when he stops thinking that the Old Lady and I aren't "the greatest parents in the whole wide world," and REALLY starts to exert his will. And dating is gonna suck -- the first time he ever gets dumped? Holy fuckstain. I don't think I can even fathom the angsty, teenage Mr. Z lid-flippage that is to come. But I'll take my emotional, sensitive, cries-at-the-Olympic-opening-ceremonies kid over some even-keeled, suck-it-up, don't-worry-be-happy kid any day of the goddamn week.
The boy keeps me guessing and he really helps me see that life is fucking insane and it makes sense to get worked up about it, good or bad, from time to time. And, to tell you the truth, I think I'm learning a lot from him. I mean, don't tell anyone, but those opening ceremonies actually caused me to dredge up and squirt out a single, salty tear from the depths of my hard-boiled, emotionally barren hull. Although, I'm probably just going through "the change."