My Little Pupa

It's hard to believe, but I am the mother of a teenager now. I guess it shouldn't be that hard to believe, because technically I could be a grandmother. But still, it only seemed like last week that he was a baby. I can still envision the startled look on his face after he was born, opened his eyes and looked around the bright world while still safely tethered to his placenta. But my boy turned 13 yesterday, May 19.

We celebrated in low-key fashion. His dad had sent him an M.C. Escher book, he got lots of money from family folk that he'll be able to spend a little of, but he'll have to save most of it. He picked going out to eat for dinner at Potbelly. He's going to have some other pupas over on Sunday and play Settlers of Catan and eat cake.
My pupa, in his natural habitat.

Luka and I gave him a chia pet ("new", found at the Salivation Army), a Swiss army knife that he has been instructed to keep away from school grounds, and a square, decorative rayon sarong/shawl-type item to replace another similar type accessory that was worn into oblivion. He had adopted it at one of my Naked Lady parties and I called it his blankie but he didn't like that, I was supposed to call it a cape. Whatever it is, I bought him another one because every well-equipped pupa needs a cocoon.

My little pupa exhibits peculiar behavior. He will eat preposterous amounts of food. He's recently started shooting withering looks my way, meant to convey how embarrassing my behavior is but I am immune because I know how cool I really am. He will sneer at the younger folk, but then put on his bathing suit and leap around in the sprinkler with them. With his shoes and socks on, which I don't understand but I choose my battles around here.

I am fortunate. I've heard of other pupas who scream "I HATE YOU!" to their alphas and go around slamming doors but he doesn't do any of that.

I also gave him a can of Spam, inspired by the Spam-like bricks on the Settlers of Catan resource cards. It reminded me of how I used to eat Spam at my Grandmere's house, but my kids had never had it. No great loss for them, I know, but I thought Evan would appreciate the World War II connection, as it was the food for American soldiers. It also seems appropriate and symbolic for a birthday gift, as opening a can of Spam is kind of like a birth when the can is opened and the form drops out, all covered in a gelatinous goo like vernix. We will ignore the eating it part of the metaphor.

I'm going to call my Grandmere later today and ask her how she prepared it. If I remember correctly, it seems like she chopped it up into a sandwich salad, with pickles and mayo and stuff. I've heard of frying it up, or doing something to it with ketchup. Feel free to post your family's favorite Spam recipe in the comments section.


Happy Birthday, Evan and to Malcolm X too!