A few weeks ago, Thomas, who’s four, and Muffa, who’s three, were sitting on the couch. Thomas was reading a book to himself, and Muffa was staring off into space. I knew that he wasn’t really feeling well. With hardly a thought, I started to do a little jig for him. I’m not quite sure why — it just seemed like a good idea. Usually, I leave the silly fun stuff up to dad. I’m the hugs and kisses one, but I went out on a limb hoping to bring some joy into his sad, little life.
Unfortunately, my limb broke rather quickly. I got nothing from Muf. And Thomas, Thomas looked at me without any animation and said, “That’s a nice little talent you’ve got there.” To this day, I don’t know whether he was paying me a compliment or simply displaying his mastery of sarcastic humor.