WIL WHEATON dot NET

50,000 Monkeys at 50,000 Typewriters Can't Be Wrong

Sax0phone and Chalk Piano

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The tea kettle’s whistle pierced the air. The dogs, who were slumbering beneath my feet, jumped up to seek the source of the sharp, shrill sound.
I pushed my chair back, and walked out of my office into my kitchen. A tiny house finch, who is building a nest in our breezeway, warbled at me through the open window.
Ryan was standing at the refrigerator, wearing his WWdN T-shirt. I love it when he wears that shirt, because he asked for it himself a couple of weeks ago.
“Wil, do you have any extra shirts?” he asked when I brought them home from todiefor.
“No, I don’t,” I told him, “I’m selling them as fast as I can print invoices.”
“Oh,” he said, and looked away. “That sucks.”
He started out of the room, and stopped when he reached the doorway.
“When you get some more, can I have one?”
“You want one for yourself?” I said. Though my heart swelled, I kept my best poker face — the one I wear when I look at pocket rockets on the button.
“Yeah. I think they’re really cool. I want to wear it to school.”
My 13 year-old step son, who has struggled through father-inspired loyalty conflicts as long as I’ve known him, wanted to wear one of my shirts. A shirt with my face on it.
“I had no idea you wanted one for yourself.” I walked to the box of shirts, and pulled out a small. “Here, I’d love for you to have it.”
“Really?!” His face lit up.
“Yeah. Take it.” I tossed it to him.
“Thanks, Wil!”
This memory flashed through my mind, and I felt the same surge of pride and joy that I felt when he first asked; the same happiness I felt when I walked out to the breakfast table to take him to school two weeks ago and saw him wearing it.
“Can I have a cup of tea with you?” he said.
“You bet! I’d like that.” I said. I turned the fire down, and went to the pantry for a tea bag.
“Cool! What are you having?”
“Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.” I said, and put a tea bag into my Tux mug from thinkgeek.
I am such a nerd.
“I’ll have the same,” he said, wonderfully oblivious to the reference.
We sat at the table, sipped tea, and talked about girls, school, and poker.

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3 May, 2003 Wil

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