Remember that commercial, Leggo My Eggo? It rang true in a funny way yesterday after my son announced he no longer wanted any of his prized Legos. “Just toss ’em in a bin for later, someone else can play with ’em,” he announced, “I don’t care.” I stared at him, stunned…his room is a veritable temple to Lego.
“Yeah, I just don’t like Legos now mom,” he continued casually. Unable to process this sudden decision I blink and stare, then it occurs to me that he is getting too big to play with Legos. No, not getting too big, he has just announced apropos of nothing that he IS too big. Leggo my Lego.
This is where I do that thing called “leave my body” and pretend I’m in a good parenting movie where the mother says the ‘just-right, perfect thing’ punctuated by meaningful pauses and the grateful son nods knowingly, thinking to himself, “Gee my mom is sure swell, she just knows how to make me feel alright about everything, especially growing up. I hope I know as much as she does when I’m a parent one day.”
Instead I sit down on his bed and blurt out “Why are you doing this?” As if he’s leaving us forever. Guilty accusation #1. Then I babble about how he’ll miss them, how they are special and how much hard work he’s put into them. He just looks at me. I leave; this is not the movie moment I imagined. Kicking the Lego habit is only a sign of one thing, growing up. Little boys grow up and leave home; this is the beginning of all of that.
I return to his room where he has been busy tearing down his rated ‘G’ posters, little league pennants and framed artwork from the wall. There is a scar on the drywall from the old tape he pulled away. I run my finger over it and say, “I wish you had asked before you did this,” READ: I wish you had told me you were going to come home from school today and grow up.
My wise boy gives me a nod, “Sorry mom, I just want to change things in here.” Sigh. I know, I know. I muster a movie-worthy moment and say, “Let’s do that, let’s change things together.” Well, not really, I fuss at him for the drywall mess and tell him to clean his room while he’s at it, then I get a glass of wine.
Harbingers of things to come call for wines with bottled up potential. Tonight I want a wine that changes, matures if you will, from the first glass to the last. A wine like this is gonna cost ya…they tend to be top drawer Cabernet Sauvignon blended with Merlot and Cabernet Franc. Potential is costly no doubt, much like raising a child, it takes time and money.
Quintessa from Napa Valley, a gorgeous Bordeaux style red and around $90 a bottle. It demands your attention at every sip ranging from lush leather and chocolate to warm spice and sandalwood. Grill a tenderloin, bake a potato and raise a glass of this wine to change