Poetry Friday Word for Tomorrow, Tuck-In Style

I’ve been the prime “Tucker-Inner” since the kids were babies. It’s a job I relish, and thoroughly enjoy…the ritual of bedtime, the crisp sheets and snuggling, the quiet darkness wherein I’m met with questions and observations about the world that make my heart burst with selfish pride.

Boy-child, solidly 11, wants to talk about the world. People in his world. Rules and family policy. The other night he asked me, “Not to freak you out or anything, and you don’t have to worry, but at what age should people date?” He’s had Repro Health, so I first made a distinction about “dating” in the elementary school sense (hanging out at the lockers, face-to-face conversation (however stilted and shy), a warm feeling in your stomach) and “dating” in the high school sense (huggingandkissingandlovin’emup). I always have to check myself to make sure I’m not rambling onandonandon, but he never seems to mind.

Girl-child, who’s 8 going on 16, wants to talk about her day, about her friends, and holds my hands and arms and head tightly while I crouch beside her bed, stroking her head, whispering, “Shhh…close your eyes and breath nice and slow.”

Last night at the Tuck-In, Girl-child threw herself back on her bed, arms above her head, and stretched.

“Smell my pits!” she commanded.

“Um…no?” I countered.

“C’mon, Mama!”

Figuring, well, how much sweat can a pre-tween generate, I called her bluff and stuck my nose in her armpit.

“Blech!”, I laughed. “You’re…stinky!”

Girl-child laughed and stuck her nose in the crevice, inhaling deeply. She wrinkled her nose up and stuck out her tongue.

“I should get you some deodorant,” I said.

Girl-child’s countenance changed. Her face went from crumpled-up-stinky-smell to one of pure joy.

“Deodorant? I get to wear Deodorant? Yay! Yay! Deodorant! Deodorant!”

“You want to wear deodorant?” I asked.

“Yes! Yes! Oh yes! Thank you Mama!” I couldn’t have made her any happier if I’d told her Hannah Montana was coming to our house for a sleepover.

We then spent the next few minutes talking about the kinds of deodorant we could buy her, what smells were in the various cans and roll-on tubes (Girl-child wondered if there was berry-smelling deodorant…I said, um, no, people don’t usually like the smell of strawberries shooting out from their sweaty armpits). I promised to buy her some tonight.

Who knew so much happiness could be got from stinky armpits?

The Poetry Friday WORD for Tomorrow is…anything having to do with SWEAT. You may use the word “PERSPIRE”…or “GLOW”…whatever these dog days of summer do to those little glands of yours. Feel free to use this word in your blog post tomorrow in whatever fashion zips your zipper…story, poem, song, photo, macramé wall hanging, bathing suit horror story….

Now I’m wondering if berry deodorant isn’t such a bad idea after all….