Much like Al Capone in The Untouchables, Elijah has enthusiasms.

Enthusiasms.

Enthusiasms.

Of late, Elijah's primary enthusiasm is a sweet, wide-eyed, unassuming boy in his preschool class. To protect this boy's identity, I will call him Jo-Jo. Elijah loves Jo-Jo. He loves him very much. He's renamed his favorite stuffed cat Jo-Jo, and he snuggles tight with Jo-jo Kitty every night. The other day he told me the following:

"I wish Jo-Jo and I were twins. That way we could sleep in the same bed every night."

And this morning, on the way to school, he said:

"Jo-Jo and I are married. I'm the Daddy and Jo-Jo is the mommy. And his lamby is the baby. He had three lambies but he can't find the blue one or the white one."

Elijah can think of nothing but Jo-Jo. A typical conversation in our house goes like this.

"Elijah, what do you want for dinner?"

"Jo-Jo!"

"We don't have Jo-Jo."

"Then I want poo-poo nuts!"

"Besides poo-poo nuts."

"Jo-Jo nuts."

"We're out of Jo-Jo nuts."

"How about Jo-Jo poo-poo nuts?"

"No. Do you want some seaweed?"

"OK. Seaweed."

"Good."

"Jo-Jo seaweed!"

"Whatever."

He's also taken the lyrics of all his favorite songs and Jo-Joized them. For instance, "You Can't Rollerskate In A Buffalo Herd" now goes:

"You can't Jo-Jo skate in a Jo-Jo herd. You can't Jo-Jo skate in a Jo-Jo herd! Jo-Jo Jo-Jo Jo-Jo Jo-Jo..."

Mercifully, Regina and I get along with Jo-Jo's parents. Even more mercifully, his parents own the best gelato shop in town and are very generous with their well-stocked liquor cabinet. If Elijah's going to have a boy-husband, he might as well be married to an ice-cream heir.

The other day, I took Elijah over to Jo-Jo's house for a playdate.

There were many adults present. Jo-Jo has a nanny, and his mom works at home. His dad came in at one point, took the dog to the park, and then returned. Also, Jo-Jo has a six-year-old brother who, based on some enthusiastic playing with me at Elijah's birthday party, is under the impression that I want him to try out his karate moves on me.

But Elijah and Jo-Jo are hard to supervise. At various points in the late afternoon/early evening, Elijah and Jo-Jo:

1. Threw a bunch of coasters down a stairwell.

2. Attempted to trash two acoustic guitars.

3. Attempted to turn on the sprinklers.

4. Attempted to run naked through the sprinklers.

5. Got into the shower fully-clothed.

6. Unraveled a roll of toilet paper.

While the bathroom-related items were going on, I was downstairs with Jo-Jo's parents, drinking a glass of wine. Elijah is good for Jo-Jo, they told me. He's brought Jo-Jo out of his shyness phase and introduced him to a bunch of other kids.

"Good for Jo-Jo" might be a bit of a stretch, I thought. That's like saying it's good to get into a serious car accident because the insurance will allow you to buy a new car. I wanted to tell them: You don't understand. Elijah is Dennis The Menace, but written by John Waters. Unusual things happen when he's around. Then again, they're a lot more laid back than we are, and probably won't care.

When we got home, Regina, ever the observant mother, said to Elijah:

"What's all this gunk in your hair?"

"Jo-Jo and I put lotion and toothpaste all over each other," Elijah said.

"Of course you did," Regina replied.

Posted by at 11:02 AM | Permalink