Of Phoenicians and Bubbles

As I read from the history book, Andres nestled against me on the sofa.   He stared outside into the blistery snowdrifts scattering about, and the wind pummeling the window.  He was captured, completely still, listening as if there was a movie behind his eyes, which I'm sure there absolutely was, as if he blinked he would miss something.

"Have you ever used a straw to blow bubbles in milk?"  The text prompted me, which engaged him, jolting him out of his reverie.

"Yes!"

"Well that is what made the ancient Phoenicians the best at glass making.  They invented glass blowing, which they used a long metal pipe and dipped it into the sticky, melted glass, then they blow air from their lungs through the pipe into the glass, making a bubble at the end.  And no one else had done it before, and no one at the time was doing anything like that.   They were the best glass makers of their time."

Later at the end of our chapter, there were review questions, and one of the first ones seemed to be the most easy.

"What were the ancient Phoenicians the best at doing?"

Without skipping a beat, he blurted out, "Blowing bubbles in their milk!"

Naturally, we both cracked up, because of course we knew what he meant, but the visual of blowing milk bubbles was too strong of a schematic link, and it came to him without censor.

Later that night at the table, we were sharing our day with Papa over dinner, and Andres recounted the story.  At the line where he fumbled, he burst into a giggle that quickly escalated into a chuckle, then before we knew it, we each were laughing around him, even Raph who was just moved by Andres' laughter and couldn't fully appreciate the punch line.  It was so silly, the idea of these advanced ancient people blowing bubbles in their milk!  The more he thought about it, the more he laughed, and we followed suit.  It's the best kind of contagion, his laughter, and we were all blissfully infected.

It is hard, the home school thing.  It's work, and it's time, and it's a give-a-thon akin to nursing, or potty training or any other intense part of parenting, but can be, and slowly is becoming more fun.  I love it.

When I can remember not to take it all too seriously, when I can remember that being his teacher is my J.O.B., when I can remember that he's still oh so young, and I should be impressed that he not only knows how to say "polytheistic," but can describe the ancient Romans and Egyptians as being such, I am humbled, and fearsomely inspired by who he is.  Not who he will become one day, but as he is now, he is amazing.  He is a marvel.

When he laughs his trademark heart-moving laugh, and his dimples pierce his almond cheeks, and his deep, keen eyes are pressed into dark-lashed crescents, the symphony of him as a person moves my soul.

And it's my bet he's right.  If the Phoenicians were best at blowing glass, then there's a mighty good chance they were also the ancient world's best at blowing bubbles in their milk.