He decided while we were in the waiting room that he really wanted to take the stairs going down. After some serious negotiating and a handshake we decided we would take the stairs and the "last man standing" would win. He was certain he would win and by the looks of it, with her eyeballing my formerly-girlish-now-gone-beachball figure, my mom was pretty certain he would, too. Frankly, this made me fed up with both of them.
When we finished with my mom's appointment, she left down the elevator and Julius and I headed for the stairs. We stepped into the coffin-like stairwell and the door slammed shut behind us. I jumped and glanced behind me to see a small sign:
Doors will lock behind you.
Exit only on 1st floor.
The only problem is that you can only see the sign when the door is closed.
Now fully committed we proceeded down the stairs. Between floors 8 and 7 we paused to look down the middle of the stairwell, a tiny little gap, presumably for safety. I wallered up a big wad of spit and sent it down eight flights, a perfect straight drop all the way to the bottom.
Julius said, "Wow... how'd you DO that?"
For a moment, I basked in the adulation of my son. All it takes is a little bit of spit and I can impress a 6-year-old boy. I figured I should enjoy it now since I've got so little time of this left before we ease into the adolescent disdain and embarrassment.
He tried to muster some spit and send it on down the chute and it spattered on the steps of the floor below us. "Ar," he stated with disgust. "I can't do it and I'm out of spit now!"
I shrugged and said, "See you at the bottom!"
And thus the race began. Behind me he yelled, "Let me in front of you!"
I cackled and yelled, "No way, Jose!" On floor 5 I rounded the corner to see the most humongous cockroach I've ever seen in my life. Fortunately, dead and upside down. I yelled up, "COCKROACH!" and kept on skipping down the stairs.
Behind me Julius rounded the corner and stopped to look at it. Suckerrrrrr! I gained half a floor more before I heard him yell, "Maaahhhhhmmmm! Wait for me!" I paused slightly out of motherly guilt and then remembered how smug they were about my abilities to go DOWN eight flights of stairs. DOWN, for heaven's sake.
"Nice try!" I yelled as I continued down to floor 4. Behind me I heard him admonish himself, "Argh, I stopped too long to look at that bug!" I snickered quietly, pausing to make sure I could still hear him behind me.
Another dead bug on four and one more on 3. I relayed the information up the stairs and heard him yell, "Mom, now I'm getting scared!"
I yelled back, "The only thing you should be scared of is me winning!" I skipped down through two, rounding down to the ground floor to see my mom standing at the door holding it open. She asked where Julius was. I told her he was about 2 flights behind me.
Finally there he was with a sheepish grin. We walked out to the parking lot, him splashing in the puddles with his brand new shoes. "Mom spit down the stairs," he told his grandmother. I looked around innocently, certain she would admonish me.
She glanced over. "You did?"
I nodded. "I think I impressed him."
She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm sure you did."
"Well, I am the mother of two boys you know," I reminded her.
"I know and you're starting to be just like them, spitting and burping. Just like all THREE of them."
I smiled happily and stomped a puddle next to her, splashing her, laughing, "We deserve each other."
She scooted farther away from me and yelled back at me, "You certainly do!"