Daniel was up early Sunday morning. He wanted breakfast (“but not cereal”). I rummaged through the refrigerator while Daniel sat down at the kitchen table and looked through the pile of junk mail flyers lying next to the napkin holder.
“Awesome!” Daniel cried. “All decks are on sale!” I poured him a glass of orange juice and set it down next to his elbow. Daniel barely noticed. He was poring over an ad for a big box hardware chain. We don’t have a deck. Unless they were marked down about 100% for the sale, it was unlikely we would be getting one.
“Awesome!” he said again. “They have new showers on sale! And tubs!” Daniel continued paging through the paper, proclaiming each item on sale.
“Awesome! All fences are on sale too!”
“Awesome!” he exclaimed. “Floor tiles are just 49 cents each!” That was the last straw.
“Daniel, do you know what ‘awesome’ means?” I asked. “You say awesome when it’s something spectacular. You say awesome when you’re standing at the base of a mountain at sunrise or the first time you see the ocean.” I gestured at the flyer. “Please don’t waste it on floor tiles.” Daniel looked a little sheepish.
“That’s a good price,” he said quietly.
“That makes it ‘good’,” I said, “not ‘awesome’.” I placed a plate of waffles and syrup under his long face. Daniel took a bite and started to say something, but stopped. I smiled.
“So, are the waffles ‘awesome’?” I asked. Daniel shook his head. “It’s okay,” I said, laughing. “You can say awesome this one last time.” He looked at me, exasperated.
“Come on, Dad,” he replied. “These are just frozen waffles.”