At 7 this morning, I crept upstairs to wake my ten-year-old son for school. This must be done with caution, as he suffers from “sleep-walking without walking” occasionally, and I’m never quite sure if he’s going to open his eyes and actually see me, or if his head’s going to spin twice around like the little girl in the exorcist and he’ll start speaking in tongues. Apparently,  I was too quiet in my approach.

Derek: MOM! You scared the beans out of me.

Me: The beans? You mean the ‘bejeezus?’

Derek: No, beans are a thing. What’s a bejeezus?

Me: Pass. Next question.

Derek: I can’t ask questions. My heart ‘sploded, and I have no more beans in me.

Me: Beanless! And on a Wednesday! That’s unheard of, and frankly tragic. I’ll alert the media.

Derek: *looks at me funny* You’re weird, Mom.

Me: ME? You’re the one who lost his beans.

The boy shoves his legs in some pants, puts on the same socks he had on yesterday (the “lucky” ones), counts the Halloween mini-chocolates on his dresser to make sure there’s still exactly ten, checks them again, and then one more time. Then he pulls on his ninja mask and gives me a pointed look through the eye hole.

Derek: Prob’ly, you should sleep in tomorrow, Mom. Getting up early is making you strange.