There’s a chance D and I will end up in Debtor’s Prison.
“Why? Have you travelled back in time?” you ask.
“No. We have children.” You nod understandingly.
Besides paying for their chosen sports; hockey and riding, and clothing them in pants that fit because they will keep growing, and feeding them EVERY DAY, we now have some new expenses heading our way.
Next year Bou starts high school and there’s a very real possibility he’ll go on the class trip to Europe that’s being planned. First he has to get approval from his teachers and then we need to agree to it. If these pieces fall into place we’ll begin doling out the dineros. Dineros don’t grow on trees in Canada. Wrong climate.
And to keep alive the high school tradition of showing up on the first day with as many chips stacked against you as possible, he needs braces. There isn’t anything terribly wrong with his mouth, aside from the cheek he’s fluent in, but enough that braces are advisable to prevent future issues.
You see where this is heading, right? Debtors Prison, unless one of our ace schemes comes to fruition. So far the sale of organic compost (dog poop) hasn’t picked up and nobody is buying my locally sourced, all-natural fiber (dryer lint) hand-knitted bunny sweaters. Bunnies get cold too.
Besides the worry of ending up in an 18th century English jail cell, what these two recent changes made me feel was pride. Like heart-bursting-eyes-tearing-up pride.
The day the class trip was presented Bou hopped in the car and announced he was going on a cultural trip to Europe to visit WWII sites. His announcement wasn’t delivered with arrogance, but with excitement at the potential for a trip. Two days later (and with $$ signs clouding my vision) we sat with the orthodontist to discuss his braces and she asked Bou a few questions so she could get to know him better.
Her: Do you play any sports?
Him: Hockey.
Her: Do you play hockey in the summer?
Him: No. He’s wordy like that.
Her: What do you like to do in the summer?
Him: I like to mountain bike and travel.
And then my heart burst and I had a soppy grin on my face. My son loves to travel. He states it matter-of-factly. He’s excited to head out into the world and discover new places. I guess some things get through after all.
For someone with a nomadic heart that was the epitome of a proud parenting moment.


