Eraser Lloyd Wright

Eraser Eater is driving me nuts. Who else would, really? He is a very lovely boy, but at times he can truly get under my skin only because he knows exactly what to do to make my blood boil. Maybe we are similar or something.

He has been on Architectural Digest kicks lately. Yes, you heard that right. The boy is NINE (mind you) and he is obsessed with Architectural Record, Architectural Digest, anything that has plans and buildings and "modern designs".

The other day he was looking through his one and only copy of Architectural Record that I picked up at a newsstand at the Ronald Reagan Airport a couple years ago and he stopped turning pages when he reached his favorite house, some modern, wall-less structure that looks semi-uninhabitable. He threw the issue across the room along with his pencil, sketches of plans, and sketchbook full of various houses he designed (including the Silo House).

He yelped into the air, "Forget this! I can't be an architect! This architect (I think he stated his name but I don't give a rip what his name is so I don't remember it) already thought of the coolest house design and I can't beat it! Forget this! Throw my sketch book away! I give up!!!!"

"Wait a minute," I said, "Are you telling me you are giving up because some grown man has already come up with a design you covet and you are mad because you didn't think it up?"

"Yes," he moaned. He slunk himself against the hall wall where I was standing. He looked to the floor in defeat.

I went into the bathroom to wipe the toilet down (those are always my most bright and shiny moments, by the way) and said, "Do you think this architect, who apparently designed this house when he was an adult, designed houses when he was NINE?"I was about ready to blow, actually, because he had been moaning about this for a few hours already.

"No."

"Don't you think that this architect as well was inspired by other designs he saw and created his own?" I looked up from the toilet. His face was still a bit downcast.

"Yes."

"I bet you," I said fiercely, "that this architect had no idea what he wanted to be when he was nine years old. I bet you that he barely knew what an architect was. All you need to worry about now is math, geometry, and practice. You get those down, you will be better than that guy. You have an eye for it."

His eyes brightened slightly in a morbid, mad professor sort of way. (Gee, I wonder where he gets that from)
"You will see, Mom. I will be in Architectural Record. I will be the greatest architect. I don't really care if I am in Architectural Digest, I just really want to be in Record. That is the magazine that has the best designs. More modern. I like modern. So, what do you think? When I make your house on Chesapeake Bay, would you like it to be made mainly of steel or glass? Dad says that he likes the glass, but he also likes steel. That material suits him. I thought that I would put the house a little under ground and then from the top there will be a sort of loft where you can see the ocean from and let me go get the plans...." he ran to get his plans.

Here we go again...

Just on Sunday we passed a sign from the freeway that boasted of a Frank Lloyd Wright building just off the next exit. The boy practically screamed with delight. "We must go there!"

Just yesterday as the boys were all doing math, Eraser Eater yelled from the sun-room, "Mom? Can I just skip this math and start Algebra? I mean, I just want to get to it faster. I'll do fine."

I had to explain to him that he needs to take it slowly, he is already books ahead in math and soon enough he will be taking algebra. Gee whiz. I told him that the math he is learning now will help him to understand algebra, so he is on the road to being an architect already.

"I know," he said.