My nephew told me about sitting up late waiting for the pope to die. We talked on the weekend in the basement of the house where everyone in my family lives except me. That makes for very efficient visiting sessions.
I sat on a deep blue exercise ball. 65cm and covered in rubbery spikes that poked into my bum.
Jack sprawled on a bright yellow exercise ball. 75cm with a pattern of expanding circular ridges like radar pings across its surface.
He told me about getting to stay up late to watch television because the people on the television were all standing in front of a building and when the light went off in the room then it would mean the pope was dead but even though it got really really late and he was tired the light wouldn't go off.
He said he kept hoping somebody would just go in and flick the light so then the tv would show something else and he could go to bed.
I asked him why he didn't just go to bed if he was tired.
"Because I got to stay up late. I just wish they shut off the lights sooner because I had to go to hockey in the morning."
He rolled back and forth, arms spayed in a hug that barely reached halfway around the ball. I bounced a little, but only a very little because of the spikes in my bum.
