One of my favourite words in the Spanish language is aguafiestas. It’s used to describe someone who ruins a good time. In English, the closest equivalent would be “party pooper.”
I mention that because I’m about to be an aguafiestas.
I’ll tell you up front: if you’re an actual person who actually lives under an actual rock, what I’m about to say will make little sense. But then again, you’ve chosen to set up shop with spiders and bats and pervasive dampness, and you’re willingly reading the dreck I shovel out, so I think we’ve established that sense isn’t your strong suit.
Yesterday, my son decided that he wanted to write a letter to his bear, Walter … so he did. As I described it on Facebook:
“The letter included Walter’s name, my kid’s name, a drawing of each, a drawing of a house and a drawing of a cave. Oh, and a drawing of some hydro wires. Then he made a bracelet for Walter, and included a set of keys (not ones we actually use). Then we weighed it (52 g), so we had to put five stamps (stickers) on it. Very productive afternoon.”
Inside the letter, he traced the letters I’d written. On the envelope, he printed them all by himself. I posted pictures of both, and his grandma (my mom) made a sweet and benign comment about how he is a “budding writer.”