On Friday afternoon, I took the kids to campus for some end of the year fun. S's department was having a BBQ and the dorm with which S works had arranged to have water slides, like last year. BJ was thrilled at the prospect. (Yes, he remembered going to the same event, an entire year ago. Kid has an elephantine memory!) So, even though it was only in the 70s and a little cloudy, we headed over.
I'd brought water gear for both kids, but not even the idea of wearing her swim suit (her favorite outfit) was enough to tempt BB. (It was danged cold -- can't say I blamed her!) But BJ had a great time. Their babysitter, K, was also there, and she was very kind about doing the slides with BJ.


BB was perfectly content to play "balance beam" and run around with her balloon. Ever since S showed the kids the balloon stash at the dorm, they associate those long balloons with campus.


So now, every time they come to campus to see S, they ask for one of those balloons. Which can lead to some unfortunate pictures, alas.

But it was all good, clean fun. And I'm not going to succumb to the old wives' tale about a chill leading to a fever -- yes, BJ's teeth were chattering, and yes, he ended up with a 104 temperature the next day. But even the Kaiser advice nurse said that it was unlikely to have been caused by the water slide play, unless it was the mouthfuls of water that he gulped down when S accidentally dunked him at one point.
After the water slides, we headed over to the BBQ. I had the dubious distinction of being asked if I was one of the
students as I was running around after the kids. S is so glad that I'm finally getting a few grey hairs to echo his own. Hey, at least it's been a while since somebody asked if I was his
daughter. Right? As one of his students said a few years back, looking at side to side pictures of us at our wedding and us with baby BJ, "Kids really will age ya, won't they?" Good golly. S and I are the same age, folks, give or take a few months. Sheesh. The annoying thing is that it was one of the professors, S's colleagues, who assumed I was a student. The 18-year-olds I can excuse for not knowing any better about making assumptions about a person's age....
Anyway. Enough about that. (It's a bit of a sore subject, can ya tell?) It was a handful to keep the kids content as bedtime descended upon us, but on the whole we all had a good time. It was especially gratifying to see how comfortable BJ was with the crowd. It was mostly college students with a few older folks (professors and their spouses) and BJ was totally comfortable. No shyness at all! Almost immediately he launched into sharing his imagination with as many people as he could. He started telling them about The Magic Bee.
"At our house," he said (repeatedly), "at the end of our garden, we have a Magic Bee. And if you find a grey pebble and put it under your pillow, you can ask the Magic Bee to turn you into
something else. And when you wake up in the morning, you will turn into something else!"
(I'll point out that this story is obviously inspired by two of his favorite books:
Sylvester and the Magic Pebble and
Alexander and the Wind Up Mouse.)
And as he told (and re-told) this story, he proceeded to go about gathering bits of grey gravel and distributing the little rocks to all and sundry. Most folks were extremely good natured about this and very entertained. When BJ asked, they would tell him what they hoped to turn into: a scorpion, a kitten, a college graduate... Apparently, today on campus, several of S's students made a point of stopping him to say that they had indeed kept their grey pebbles under their pillows. Too sweet, isn't it?
BJ informed everybody who would listen that he was going to turn into a viper. And when we got home from campus, the first thing he wanted to do was visit the garden and tell this to the Magic Bee. I apparently warranted not one but two bits of gravel, but I was never asked what I'd want to become. Good thing, since I didn't really have a ready answer and still don't. I should probably come up with one, though, since the game will likely recur -- both BJ and BB still have rocks in their beds, last I checked, and once they remember they are there I'm sure I'll hear about it.
For now, I'm keeping my magic rocks in the same basket as those precious stones from the visit S and I made to Rehoboth Beach all those years ago. (Same trip as the one from
this post, but not to be confused with the seashells we saved -- the story of the stones is one for another post entirely.) If you ask me, it's good to have a collection of magic rocks. Doesn't everybody?