Posts Tagged ‘Kids’

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?”

It Was A Completely Legal And Safe Turn, I Just Didn’t Have A Lot Of Time To Linger While Doing It

June 9, 2017

Today my son learned that when I’m driving and say “Hang on!”, I mean it!

I Now Have A New Standard For “Ironic”

June 7, 2017

What follows is a (heavily paraphrased to better capture background nuances) exchange between me and my son:

Him:  “Dad, do you want to do something together?”

Me (Knowing that it’s been raining for days and that he’s feeling cooped up):  “Sure!  What do you want to do?”

Him:  “It has to be something inside because I don’t like getting wet.”

Me:  “Of course.”

Him:  “Do you want to log into [an online game that includes fishing] and fish together?”

Me (Indulgently):  “Sure.”

Him:  “Isn’t this great?”

Me (Uncertainly as I watch our avatars standing together in virtual rain as they fish):  “Yes . . .?”

But I’m Going To Put Mine On Now

May 25, 2017

Today is my son’s last day of kindergarten, and I’m feeling . . . maudlin, not because time continues to pass, but because he is profoundly unimpressed by this day.

Up to a point, I understand.  I’m not one to enjoy pomp and circumstance myself (I remember arguing with my parents about me not wanting to “bother” with attending my high school graduation ceremony.), but we both walked a hard road together, son, and it’s okay to acknowledge that fact.

And, again, no, you don’t “have to” wear the party hat.

And That’s Exactly What Happened Too

May 24, 2017

You know what the worst part of when your child spills ice water down your pants leg and ice ends up in your shoe is?  It’s that you know it’s only a matter of time before somebody asks you if you can get them more water!

Because I’m Not Having Much Luck On That Front

May 17, 2017

Today my six-year-old son grasped the concept that just because you agree with an opinion, that does not make it a fact, not even if the opinion is a very, very good one.

May he someday teach this concept to the rest of the world.

Current Parenting Challenge Level: Advanced

May 12, 2017

Parenting Challenge, Basic:  Figure out how to get your work done on time with your child around.

Parenting Challenge, Intermediate:  Figure out how to get your work done on time with your child “helping” you.

Parenting Challenge, Advanced:  Figure out how to get your work done on time while pretending to still be asleep so your child can finish preparing their “surprise” party for you.

And If You Don’t Know What I Was About To Say . . . GOOD!

May 11, 2017

This morning my son, giggling his head off, burst into my room.

“What’s going on?” I asked him.

“I’m knocking on my mom’s door, then running away before she can see me there,” he answered.

“Ah,” I said.  “That game.  When I was a kid they used to call it n–”  I stopped myself abruptly.

“Man, I had a messed up childhood,” I announced to no one in particular.

Something I Never Said Before Becoming A Parent

May 5, 2017

“I either need the chance to eat . . . or to finish a sentence.  Either one will do.”

Thanks For Using Me As Your Emotional Proxy There, Son

May 3, 2017

The school year is coming to an end soon, and I think my son is going to miss his virtual school teacher, but he doesn’t want to admit it.

I came to this conclusion after leaving class briefly to get myself a glass of water, only to come back to hear his teacher saying, “Oh, L., I’m going to miss you guys too!”

Suspicious at the timing (He’d type his every thought into the chat box if I let him, so I usually ask him what he’s typing as soon as I hear the first keystrokes, and this wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken advantage of any lapse of my attention), I looked over his shoulder to see what he had typed in my brief absence:

“My dad is really going to miss you!”