Well, I learned something today. Apparently my son already knows about the birds and the bees. And I've just been schooled on exactly how I ended up with my children. Virgil: Mom, did you know that we are your presents? Me: Yes, I did! You are a gift from God! Virgil: Yes! God wrapped us up in pretty boxes and He put ribbons on them. And then he gave the boxes to Jesus and Jesus got in his car and brought us to you! Me: You know son, you're absolutely right! Lesson: learned. Whew. I'm glad that talk is out
Today's Edition: Toddler grocery lists. This boy knows how to entice a mom (notice the strategic placement of vegetables on the list). This boy has my number... Virgil: Mommy, I want to go to Walmart. Me: You do? What for? Virgil: I need groceries. Me: What groceries do you need? Virgil: Bread, Ice Cream, a Monster Truck and Peas. Me: Well son, sounds like you've got your priorities straight.
Phrases I have heard so far tonight: "Mommy! I'm putting milk in baby sister's hair!" "Can I put this 18 wheeler in the fish tank?" "Look mommy! I brought you a rock!" "Mommy, I'm making a mess!" "Mommy, can I have a chocolate vegetable?" Needless to say, it's only 6:45 and I'm READY for bed time.
Sometimes, no let me correct that, all the time, my son who is now three wants to relay what he's seeing, saw, has ever seen, or plans to ever see, many times, all throughout the day. It's a lot like listening to a techno song remix - one incessant replay of the same dang phrase over and over again thrown on top of a beat bed that's also incessantly repetitive and trite. Not that I don't love my son's stories and all... But as of late he's taken to combining everything he's seen and done through the day into one
One of the many random courses that I was required to study in my otherwise useless degree was Inter-Personal Communications. Although it had little to do with the direction I had planned to take my Communications Degree of Radio / TV / Film, this class was one of my favorites. It was taught by an atheist professor that didn't like me and my "preachiness" (as he put it) very much. But, oddly, I really liked him. He fascinated me. He looked almost exactly like Christopher Walken, but somehow, with an even surlier demeanor. He was dry and slightly bitter. But
My mother always said, "Little pictures have big ears." I never understood that until I had children of my own... Virgil: Mommy, that is cray cray. Me: Virgil, let's not say "cray cray." It's not very nice. Virgil: But daddy says "cray cray!" Me: I know, but daddy is teasing when he says it. And he shouldn't say it either. Virgil: Okay, mommy. What the heck? Me: Virgil! We can't say "what the heck" either! It's not nice to say things like "what the heck" and "cray cray." Virgil: Okay mommy. It's not nice to say "beautiful, beautiful, beautiful" either.