My son Chun Woo and I were in the garden, where a light snow was melting. I was
gaping a bit and weeding a bit, and Chun Woo was messing around with his own
invented rubber band shooting gun, which is named The Mariner. I heard a loud
splash. Chun Woo had fallen into the ornamental pond (small, plastic embedded in
the rock garden and its gravel, non-dangerous). He was already emerging when I
looked around. And stank to high heaven.
He informed me that this was the second time this had happened-- the last time
was last summer, and evidently he slipped upstairs quietly while my husband
Sheeyun and I were watching a movie or something, and set himself and the
universe well enough to rights that we never knew.
Ah, when I was nine I magically fell into any body of water I was close to. I
don't know how, either. It just always happened. In my case, though, they were
streams or creeks, ponds or lakes, not little plastic tubs.
As I helped Chun Woo clean up with as little spread of stench as I could manage,
we were laughing. I was going from the bathroom with the laundry basket with the
besmirched clothes in it as Chun Woo said from the shower, "I will never be the
same!" "No," I said, "I don't suppose you ever will."
And so now everything is changed.
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