If you want to have a civil conversation, avoid certain topics unless you want to have a civil war.
– L.
If you want to have a civil conversation, avoid certain topics unless you want to have a civil war.
– L.
After one too many cases of mistaken identity happening in this house, particularly around the kitchen, I composed a little song to help my son remember to see who he’s talking to before launching into a story meant for one particular person:
Not everyone in the kitchen is your Mom.
Not everyone in the kitchen is your Mom.
It might be your Dad, or if she’s being bad,
It might be your dog and not your Mom.
He was most decidedly not impressed.
This year we need to plan less, and do more.
My son, L., age 10
Today out of the blue my son told me, “I’m placing my hopes on that this country pulls itself together soon . . . not my money, but my hopes.”
When I was asked recently what I wanted for the new year, I replied that I wanted greater stability in my personal life. This answer was met with a hint of a sneer and a disdainful, “So you want things predictable and boring?”
This is, of course, not what I want, but what I do want is that when I put my own advice into action regarding my son’s new Rubik’s cube and demonstrate for him that it absolutely can be solved, that my solution remain in place for more than two minutes.
Though to be fair, I did predict that would happen.
Today my son observed that the planet Venus, named after the goddess of beauty, is lovely to look at from a distance, but seething and lethal the closer you approach it.
He’s definitely my son.
Me: *Thinking while staring at the computer screen* There has got to be something better for me to write about than how depressing Halloween was!
My Son: *Bursting into my office and launching into his routine even before I have time to protest* “Why did the chicken cross the ocean?”
Me: *Sighing* “Why?”
My Son: “To get to the other tide!”
Me: *Thinking* Works for me.
It can’t be a good thing when your ceiling fan lights wink at you.
– My son, L.
My dark mood from yesterday continues, but it’s not so bad that I couldn’t feel an unreasonable surge of joy when my son (who has been practicing his card tricks lately) informed me that he had just given his deck of cards a “casino wash.”
Only now that I’m an adult and a parent can I fully appreciate just how difficult it is for a child to let their parent(s) sleep.