Limitless Possibilities

After dinner Hank and I drew out his dream pizza to try this weekend.

After dinner Hank and I drew out his dream pizza to try this weekend.


Me: (sliding our homemade pizza into the oven for dinner)

Hank: When I am an adult I am going to also perfect my dream pizza and make it once a week.

Me: There is nothing better than homemade pizza, except Neapolitan pizza. Nothing is better than Neapolitan pizza.

Hank: My dream pizza would be a hamburger pizza. It is my own design. I would have pizza masa (dough) then sauce, then I would put hamburger buns in the corners and in between I would have bacon strips then I would cover it with cheese. OR I would put the cheese first and after the buns and then I would put the bacon strips just at the crusts and then I would put onion cut into rings and in the center of the pizza I would have a hamburger.

Me: Like on a bun with the whole garden, ketchup and mustard or just the meat?

Hank: Just the meat.

Me: What about ketchup and mustard?

Hank: No way.

Me: We’re going to have to write this one down.


Me: I don’t see why not. Unless, you want to wait until you’re an adult.

Hank: This recipe is only an idea. It needs to be tested and perfected.

Me: (nodding, pleased) I can see you opening a restaurant and being a chef. You have amazing food ideas.

Hank: I don’t think it is possible for me to be a chef.

Me: Why not? Anything is possible.

Hank: I wouldn’t be able to handle it. You know how I am. Being a chef is so stressful and I don’t deal well with yelling and if a customer complains because their food is late I would just freak out.

Me: Just because you have a shy and sensitive personality now shouldn’t limit your future.  Your future is made of limitless possibilities.

Hank: (suspect, a bit sarcastic) You see me as outgoing?

Me: I am not seeing you as anyone but who you are. You can be shy and brave. You can be reserved and be a chef. The best chefs are reclusive and aloof. And look at me. I used to be very shy.

Hank: NOPE, I don’t believe you.

Me: I was shy until one day I decided I wanted friends. When we moved to Indiana I was twelve and I knew that if I wanted friends I’d have to be less shy and talk more, since the kids at my new school had all been friends already for a long time, and twelve year old kids are less nice for some odd reason, I knew it was up to me.  One night about the second week of school when I still was sitting alone in the cafeteria I went into the bathroom to have a good old chat with myself in the mirror.

Hank: (shocked) I do that, too! I talk to myself and act out stories and…

Me: Sing. I know. We live in an apartment not the Taj Mahal! I love your night time bathroom cabaret. All kids do it. It’s normal. So, when I was twelve, I looked in the mirror and said to myself, “Self, you’re going to have to go out there and talk out loud and make some friends.” And I haven’t stopped talking since. It’s like I was making up for lost time.

Hank: (giggles because it’s true that I talk a lot) But work in a kitchen? Kitchen’s are so much pressure and stress. I think I will be a home cook and choose another thing to be for my job. I don’t know what it is yet, but I am not brave like you.

Me: You know the difference between a brave person and everybody else?

Hank: A brave person is just as scared they just do it anyway.

Me: I wasn’t brave until the day I decided to be. When I decided to be brave I made friends and they were the best, brightest, most creative and imaginative kids in the whole school, but not everyone felt the same as me. We got made fun of a lot for our style, for not caring what other people thought, for knowing our true selves at twelve when our classmates only knew they wanted to fit in and be like each other. We loved to stand out and be different. When I was twelve, before the first class in the morning the whole school had to gather first in the large gymnasium and sit in tall stadium seats to wait for the bell to ring. I lived pretty near the school so our bus was one of the last to arrive and every day when I entered that gym the kids would boo and hiss and say mean things to me while I walked through that gym until I reached my friends who loved me and thought I was the absolute best. That was really when I learned to be brave. Every morning walking through that firing squad.

Hank: And the teachers let that happen?

Me: I was told by many, many teachers over the years that if I tried harder to fit in life would be easier for me, but the very best teachers told me I was magical and important and wise and creative just the way I was.

Hank: I would cry. I wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Me: I am not going to say that their poor opinion didn’t sting or that their words didn’t leave a bruise, but I had already decided I was brave so even though I felt sick to my stomach every single day of middle school and high school when I walked in the building I punched fear in the face and chose to be brave anyway. I didn’t need legions of friends! My friends were the greatest on the planet and loyal and so very important to me. You never need to be outgoing Hank, but you can never let your delicate sensibilities stunt you from doing what you really want. You can protect your special precious heart but never isolate yourself from what will make you happy because you think you can’t do something.  Never let cruelty make you change course from your personal style or from being a kind hearted, empathic person. I tell you I never want you to change and that isn’t a lie. Evolving, growing and adapting are a part of life but those things don’t change who you are they only make you better and stronger and more lovable. Life isn’t easy, but it’s worth it. Don’t ever say you can’t do something. Can’t is very different from being uninterested. Can’t is a limitation. Don’t limit yourself.

Hank: (sigh) Being an adult feels so very far away.

Me: It is and it isn’t. When Alice mentioned that you could babysit baby Manny in three years I thought I was going to faint dead away from shock.

Hank: Why?

Me: Because in three years you will be twelve!!! TWELVE! A tween. A year away from being officially a teenager and that feels impossible, but at the same time just around the corner.

Hank: It does. I can’t believe I am going to a new school next year. I am not excited.

Me: Understandable. Change is as hard as you chose to make it.

Hank: (exasperated) You always say things like that! Like some things are my choice!

Me: Aren’t they? Somethings are your choice.

Hank: No. I didn’t choose to be afraid of spiders.

Me: Yes, you did.

Hank: NO.

Me: Hank, when you were little you were fascinated by spiders. Together we caught a million daddy long legs and you loved finding spider webs especially when they were wet with morning dew. And you were especially good at finding barking spiders all over the house.

Hank: (unamused) That means farts, right.

Me: (trying to not laugh at his un-amusement and stay stoic) Indeed, it does.

Hank: I don’t believe you. I think sometimes you just tell me things because that is how you want me to be and I’m not that way at all.

Me: Ouch. (sucking air in through my teeth) I hear you, but to be fair: I never lie to you. I am far to busy and important to lie. I don’t have time for that stuff and nonsense. (sincere) Hank, I don’t want you to be like me. The world doesn’t need another me. The world needs you. You are the only you that will ever be and that is important whether you are a chef or a robotosist or a kindergartener teacher or an auto mechanic. The key is to be you: be shy, be quietly creative, be introverted, be a shower singer, an actor in the bathroom mirror, a writer in your imagination and a free spirit within your own four walls and still make a lovely life for yourself in the great wild world by being brave enough to follow your dreams.

Hank: Right now, I don’t have a dream.

Me: And right now that is fine as long as I don’t hear you say you can’t do something in the future. You don’t know the future. Don’t be afraid to grow and evolve, be open to it. I personally can’t wait to meet adult Hank. It is my one goal in life to raise you so that when you are in your twenties I am excited to have a conversation with you and hear your opinions, stories of your adventures and also your tales of woe. Don’t set yourself limitations yet. Your world has a million and one possibilities, but only if you’re open to them.

Hank: (stomach loudly complaining of hunger) I’ll set the table.

Me: And I will stop ranting.

Hank: (turning back) No, don’t say that. That was a good talk… I was listening.

Me: (gratefully gathering the dinner plates)


Alternative Verses

Photo by HJH Pereira

Photo taken at the Palácio de Pena, Sintra, Portugal by HJH Pereira


While on vacation outside of Lisbon:

Me: (as three fourths of my family walk through the door) Hello! How was Sintra?

Hank: WAY too many Tuk-Tuks!

Grammy: It was wonderful.

Grandpa Snitch: I can’t believe they let that one palace go into ruin.

Pai: We had a lovely day and then also got stuck in an impossible traffic jam that took almost an hour to fix.

Me: Sounds like Sintra!

Molly: PAPA!

Pai: (swooping Molly into his arm) Olá filha. (hello daughter)

Molly: Olá papa. (pythoning him about the neck) Hug. Hug.

Me: (with everyone distracted) Hank, come over here and tell me everything.

Hank: The traffic jam was unreal and the worst part of the day. I really liked the first palace. That was my favorite.

Me: Monserrate?

Hank: Yes, also we got to ride in a golf cart because Grammy and Grandpa (leans in and whispers) are old people.

Me: I can’t wait to be an old lady. I will wear turbans and moo-moos, keep a flock of corgies whom I will refer to as The Crogin and blossom into my fully eccentric self and also ride golf carts whenever possible.

Hank: And then we went to Palácio de Pena.

Me: Now that is special.

Hank: There was so much to see. I took 1000 photos almost.

Me: Show me.

Hank: (handing over his phone)

Me: (scrolling) You really know how to capture the details.

Hank: Sintra is all about the details.

Me: I couldn’t agree more. (in a mocking voice) Ooooo la la, it looks like you decided to take a picture of a rather naked lady.

Hank: WHAT? No, I didn’t.

Me: Oh, yes you did. It is a lovely painting, I must say. Good choice.

Hank: (taking his phone back) Mama, I don’t think you understand.

Me: Oh, I understand and have zero problems with it.

Hank: No, mama! Listen! There was so much to see in Palácio de Pena that I just took photos. I just clicked everything because there were people in front of me and people behind me and I knew I would miss things. I don’t even remember taking this photo.

Me: Riiiiiiigggghhhttt.

Hank: Mama! If I wanted to take a picture of naked ladies there was a whole room just for Don Carlos Primeiro (last king of Portugal) FULL of naked lady paintings.

Me: Okay, so you noticed those but not this one, is that it?

Hank: NO, mama. (deep sigh of defeat)

Me: (to the tune of What Would You Do With A Drunken Sailor)
Hank took a picture of a naked lady,
Hank took a picture of a naked lady,
Hank took a picture of a naked lady in the palácio!

Hank: Mom.

Me: (delighted with myself while simultaneously emailing the naked lady photo to myself) Haaaannnnnkkkk took a picture of a naked lady,
Hank took a picture of a naked lady…

Grandpa Snitch: What’s this about?

Me: (still singing, showing my dad Hank’s photo) Hank took a picture of a naked lady in the palácio!

Pai: Was it one of the nicer ones?

Me: Yes, he was discerning.

Hank: Mama, I will delete it.

Me: Don’t you dare.

Hank: Then you have to stop singing that song.

Me: (whining) But Hannnnkk. It works perfectly! It’s like this old drunken bar song was written for this exact moment.

Hank: You can sing it once more, but not every day and never in front of other people.

Me: Deal… HA-

Hank: (interrupting me) You’re going to blog about this aren’t you?

Me: Oh yah.

Hank: Argh.

Me: Hank took a picture of a naked lady,
Hank took a picture of a naked lady,
Hank took a picture of a naked lady in the palácio!

Hank: (hands up) NO.

Me: (sticking out my lower lip)


Leonardo da Vinci’s Virtuvian Man


About a week later back at home:

Me: How was the Da Vinci exhibit at the Palácio dos Duques?

Hank: It was fun! Better this time because I was in a better mood and with my Grandpa Snitch who knew all about him and his inventions; the ones he made and didn’t make because it wasn’t possible when he was alive.

Me: He was a visionary. Da Vinci is one of my biggest inspirations because he didn’t do just one thing. He was a doctor and an engineer and a painter and an inventor and a reader and a writer of letters and a world traveler and so much more. Today, society wants you to master one thing.  I find this boring.

Grandpa Snitch: And I got the one thing in the gift shop that was in English, but except it is in Italian.

Me: Oh, good they had Da Vinci swag? They had nothing when we went a few weeks ago, but it was newly open.

Grandpa Snitch: (pulls out a t-shirt of Da Vinci’s Virtuvian Man with a flourish)

Me: (teasing tone) I love that sketch, but isn’t it a bit controversial of you to flash a penis around town in Middle America? I have zero problems with it, but is that church appropriate, dad?

Hank: Yup, there’s a penis on your shirt.

Grandpa Snitch: I thought about that. I am going to ask your Grammy if she will stitch a fig leaf over that area.

Hank: That’s cleaver.

Me: American to the end!

Grandpa Snitch: You don’t think that is a good idea? I guess I can just wear it at home.

Me: Nope, it’s a great idea. Makes for a great conversation starter.

Hank: I like the leaf idea. Fig leaves are pretty. It will look nice.

Me: (eureka moment, singing at the top of my lungs once again to the tune of What Would You Do With A Drunken Sailor)
Bern (Grandpa Snitches’ first name) bought a t-shirt with a penis on it,
Bern bought a t-shirt with a penis on it,
Bern bought a t-shirt with a penis on it…

Hank: (gleefully joining in)

Hank and I: IN THE PALÁCIO!!!

Hank: (riots of laughter)

Me: (practically purple, tears rolling down my face)

Grandpa Snitch: (walking away) Alright, alright.

Hank: You’re right mom, that is a great song. (walking away, singing to himself)
Bern bought a t-shirt with a penis on it…



All the Pretty Little Horses, I mean Elephants.

Princess Amália of the Moon and Stars and her favorite friend, Charlie Crow.

Princess Amália of the Moon and Stars and her favorite friend, Charlie Crow.


Me: (walking into Hank and Molly’s shared bedroom toting a towel draped Molly, clearing my throat loudly) Ah, hum… Presenting for his highness Hank, Prince of Giggles and Warts…

Hank: And warts?

Me: Her Royal Highness Amália, Princess of the Moon and Stars! (muted trumpet heralding sounds)

Hank: (already in his pajamas, already in bed, clapping)

Molly: (wrapped in a towel, waving) Hello!

Hank: Hello, Princess Amália.

Molly: (pointing to herself) Amália, Princess (nodding).

Me: And tonight we are here by royal decree to bedeck Princess Amália in pajamas, as Prince Hank has already done and ferry her forth to dream land where she shall settle a diplomatic matter between Pulsars and Aurora Borealis to see who has jurisdiction over the northern most quadrant of the Milky Way. It will be quite a tense negotiation as the Borealis believe because they are also known as The Northern Lights they should rule. All rather tricky and important, you see.

Molly: (dramatic) Sky awake. (arm draped over her forehead) I awake. We have to play. (nodding)

Hank: Did she just recreate Frozen?

Me: Every single day. We talk a lot about The Northern Lights, the Princess and I.  I am her royal counsel during these negotiations. The Princess first became aware of the Borealis while learning the story of her cousins Princess Anna and Queen Elsa of Arendelle.

Molly: (while being stuffed into pajamas) Mama? Sing no cry song? Elephants?

Hank: Elephants?

Me: You want me to sing the song about not crying to elephants?

Molly: Sim (yes).

Me: Do I know this song?

Molly: (nodding) Sim (yes).

Me: And I have sung this song to you before?

Molly: (nodding)

Hank: I don’t remember an elephant song.

Molly: Hush. Elephants. No crying.

Me: Ooooh. Do you mean (singing), Hush-a-bye don’t you cry, go to sleep my little baby?

Molly: (delighted) SIM (YES)!

Me: (continuing) When you wake you will find, all the pretty little horses.

Molly: Elephants.

Me: The song has always been horses.

Molly: (adamant) Elephants.

Me: For you, Princess, anything, but only if you are polite and respectful and say…

Molly: Elephants, peas. Thank you. (nodding)

Me: (carrying the sleepy Princess of the Moon and Stars to the rocking chair)
Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little elephants.
Black and bays, dapples, grays,
All the pretty little elephants.
Hush-a-bye, don’t you cry,
Go to sleep my little baby.
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little elephants.