Thursday, September 10, 2015

#131 What's on Your Hands?

Jack's face was covered with... something shiny and sticky. He held up his hands like he was showing me something. Assuming it to be more shiny and sticky I asked him, "Jack what's on your hands?" He lifted his eyebrows in an "are you seriously calling yourself an adult and asking me THAT" kind of way and said, "Fingers," in a tone to match. Yeah, asking him to name body parts is so ten months ago... WHAT was I thinking?

#130 Bugs and Bald

This entire scene was... sweet humor. There wasn't a particular punch line that got me. It just captured my two-year-old, Jack, perfectly.

The sun was shining and our family was sitting on the lawn with Grandpa and some of the aunts and uncles. Jack was stomping around acting like... something that roared. And stomped. Grandpa was lying on his stomach so Jack naturally took his course right on top of Grandpa's back, stomping and roaring all the while.

He finally settled right in front of grandpa so that their heads were level with each other. You know the scenes from the movies where the wanna-be-macho-man is in the middle of demonstrating his machismo when a spider, or other such device, produces from him a scream akin to that of a little girl? You think to yourself that it is perhaps a little over-the-top dramatized, because even most little girls don't really scream like that... I'm convinced writers of such scenes have witnessed events such as the one I was now beholding.

Jack, turning to talk to grandpa, found himself face to face with a mosquito resting on grandpa's forehead. The scream described burst forth from Jack lasting no less than seven seconds. Simultaneously he slapped the mosquito-and grandpa's forehead.  Leaving his hand there after about three seconds he began rubbing soothingly grandpa's head. His look went from sympathetic to confused. He kept rubbing and asked, "Grandpa? Where did your hair go?"

If you are curious as to how he responded, I will simply tell you that about a month and a half later we found ourselves in severe wind, Jack clutched his hair and frantically tried to find shelter. I will let your imagination draw conclusions.

#129 Burping?

Jack wanted to be potty trained. I was not in the mood to potty train. Don't get me wrong, I eventually want him in underwear, but we have a trip to Disneyland planned, and boarding on It's a Small World would be the wrong time to hear, "I need to go potty!" (not to mention the ten accidents I cleaned up after last potty-training attempt).

That being said, I was willing to let him wear underwear until his first accident. Why not? I thoroughly explained the cans and can'ts of underwear (toilet, yes-underwear, no) gave him some undies, and said, "have fun!"

Ten minutes later he was mid-sentence about something else when he froze, he looked around himself and asked, "Can I...." he paused for about ten seconds and then resumed, "...burp in my undies?"

We hadn't been over that one.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

#128 Goat Head

My children were playing with cousins. One of them stepped on those aforementioned goat-head thorns. Those hurt. Her terrible cry prompted her affectionate sister to ask what had happened. I told her, "She stepped on a goat-head), to which she produced a look of consternation and asked,

"Was it alive?"


Don't worry. I told her it wasn't alive.