Archive for the ‘Letters to L.’ Category

You Have A Gift For Understatement, Son

August 17, 2017

“I’m feeling unnormal,” my son told me last night as I was tucking him in.

“‘Unnormal?'” I asked.  “Does that mean you’ll be going to sleep easily tonight or what?”

He then proceeded to answer me by spewing over half his bed and a good portion of the floor next to it.

(He seems to be fine, by the way.  Just another entry in the cavalcade of life, but if you hear me using the term “unnormal” in the near future, this event is probably why.)

 

Me: Exactly!

August 16, 2017

My son, L. (six years old),  while working on a school worksheet:  These really are tricky letters!

Me:  Yep.  Definitely truth in advertising on this one.

L.:  There is truth in advertising.

Me:  Well . . . not always, but in this case, yes.

L.:  There is truth . . . and there is advertising.

School Starts Here Today, So I Just Keep Telling Myself This

August 14, 2017

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of school, I will fear no fussing . . .

So I’m Obviously Feeling A Bit Better

August 11, 2017

And just what do you think you’re doing?  You know I’m still not feeling one hundred percent, and you picked now to start trying to tussle with me?!  It shall avail you naught, varlet!

– My response to my son attempting to pounce me in my chair right before the tickling match started.  (Full disclosure:  The above quote wasn’t exact at first, but captured the spirit of my initial reaction, so I lured him into a quick rematch so I could say those exact words.  The things I’ll do in the name of accuracy . . .)

Pretty Slick There, Son

July 27, 2017

I . . . am going to have oatmeal, but I haven’t had it yet.”

– My six-year-old son’s response to his mother asking him what he had for breakfast right after I had (unbeknownst to him) told her that his first meal of the day had been potato chips.  (Let the record reflect that he did indeed have oatmeal not long after this.)

Lead Into Gold Is Easy By Comparison

July 26, 2017

The transformative power of love is truly an incredible thing.  For instance, this morning it transformed my thought of “If you don’t stop with the imaginary trumpet noises, I’m going to imagine folding it into sharp corners and shoving it somewhere the sun don’t shine,” into the words, “Good morning to you too, son.”

I Think I’ll See If My Son Wants To Play For A Bit

July 7, 2017

You know the movie trope of someone trying to walk to the end of a hallway, but the hallway keeps lengthening as they walk so they can never reach the end?  Yeah . . . it’s been that kind of day for me, so I’m going to try walking down some different hallways for a while.

I’m Still In That Mood

June 30, 2017

Let me say up front that I happen to like the show Sofia the First, and I’m glad my son watches it on occasion.  I particularly get a kick out of the “shared universe” aspect of the show when another Disney character makes an appearance.

But there in lies a bit of problem.

In the back of my mind I keep expecting Little John from Disney’s Robin Hood to pop up and start singing, “Too late to be known as Sofia the first, she’s sure to be known as Sofia the worst . . .”

My Kingdom For A Cross Street!

June 27, 2017

Today my entry was delayed by my decision to accompany my son and Lala on a little outing that turned out to be not quite so little after all.  The main reason for this was because at one point our next destination was close “as the crow flies,” but we were driving, not riding crows . . .

I’ll Do That, Son

June 13, 2017

Yesterday I took an extra moment to properly time my necessary walking between my son and the television screen while my son was playing a game.

“Why do you try to be so careful about not blocking my view?” he asked me.

Chuckling, I answered, “Well . . . it’s because it used to seem like my mom was always blocking my view when I was really interested in something, and I remember how much I hated that, so whenever I can, I try not to do that to you.”

“Oh,” my son replied, then after a  thoughtful pause he asked, “Is Grandmama still coming to visit this week?”

“Yes,” I told him.

“Can you please remind her that it’s rude to block people’s views?”