We keep telling him to use his powers for good. Tonight he did just that. On our way home we passed the Friday night protest on 8th and Commercial–and the voice from the backseat exclaims: “I’m going to make a ‘No War’ sign when I get home–can I put it on the lawn?”

“Sure, why not?” I say, slyly looking over at his father who was driving to gauge his reaction. In our family, we come in three flavors: Vanilla, Strawberry, and Super Chunk-Chocolate-Toffee Swirl-Marshmallow Creme Delight. That is to say: IZ likes his lawn clear of all statements (although he’s up for the Peace Pole!), I don’t mind tasteful lawn art or political statements, and Boy Wonder is all about the lawn gnomes. And whirligigs. And painted rocks. Basically, where the lawn is concerned, this kid channels his inner 80 year old.

“Yeah, the lawn is fine,” IZ replies.

“But you know, rain is coming tomorrow, it just might do you and your sign in,” I caution.

“Not if we stay ahead of the rain, Mom. Not if we stay ahead of the rain.”

Once home, he disappeared into his chill zone only to reappear 15 minutes later with his work. “I’ve been thinking, I’d really like to take this down and protest with the other people.”

“Really?”

“Um, yeah. Is that ok? Will you drive me?”

“Sure. . .”

So off we went.

warkills2.jpg

Warkills1.jpg

His sign says: War Kills! Killing is the opposite of Freedom. Save the world from Devastation. I swear, I had NOTHING to do with this sign, or its use except for taping the stick on the back. The irony that he’s wearing last year’s trendy camo shirt from The Gap does not escape me. No, I was just the driver and the occasional sign holder when his arm got too tired to hold up his message to his corner of the world.

As we stood on the corner taking turns waving and holding his sign, we talked about the different things people were trying to convey. We talked about the meaning of democracy and how amazing it is that we live in a town where both sides of the issue are within spitting distance to protest each week, but no one actually spits! I asked questions and I listened–he told me his vision for the future. He smiled at people as they passed–he jumped for joy when they honked. We stood there, huddled against the growing cold of a storm approaching and I thought, “Well, this is one way to stay ahead of the rain.”

Finally, it was time to go. As the major protesters began to leave, he looked at one man, smiled and said, “Well, see you next week!”

The rain is on its way now and I’m glad for it.