Monday, January 16, 2017

#136 I'm Never Wrong

I had my brother's kids over for the afternoon. His little girl, Constance, is absolutely adorable. The type of adorable that speaks like an adult,  acts like teenager, and is in the body of a four-year-old. This was a snippet of conversation I overheard:

Luke: (speaking to someone else) Connie thought it was a girl and I thought it was a boy. So I was right and she was wrong.
Constance: I wasn't wrong... (tilting her head and raising her eyebrows) I just wasn't right.

I hadn't realized that sentiment started so young. But I am definitely familiar with the sentiment.

#135 That's Mean of You

While Jack was in the bathroom his attention was on the footstool by the sink. He asked, "Mama, did you get that stool just for me?"

A reasonable question, since he's the only one that needs it. But not wanting him to be territorial I kindly said, "No, I got it for everyone."

He replied his usual, "Oh." and asked, "Is it the one from the church."

Misunderstanding. I assumed he meant like the one from the church. He didn't. He was legitimately questioning if I had kifed the stool from the church bathroom.

I said, "Yep, uh-huh."

And casually he responded, "That's mean of you. Jesus wants his stool back."

#134 I'm Hungry

You know the child who is always hungry? That's Jack. Only, he's not actually always hungry. But years down the road, I want it remembered that he always said he was.

At least, he almost always says he is. There are two times in his life when Jack uses this phrase. When he is actually hungry (which is rather frequent), and when someone, to whom he doesn’t wish to speak, speaks to him. In other words, at all social gatherings.

Stranger (or rather, good friend or relative, who has seen Jack a dozen times, and is more than friendly): Hey, Jack! Wow, you're getting so big! How are you?

Jack: (ignoring stranger) Mama, I'm hungry.

We all have a coping mechanism, I guess.

Most people gain weight over the holidays because of the surplus goodies, snacks, and feasts. Jack gains weight because of the surplus social gatherings and parties and people wanting to converse. Oh, I love my "hungry" Jack!

#133 Cow Hair

Me: Alright, Hallie, it's your turn to get your hair done.
Hallie: Are you going to put a cow in my hair today?
Me: (complete confusion) Uh, no. Nope, I'm not. (still confused)
(a few moments of silence as I brush her hair)
Me: (still confused)What do you mean, put a cow in your hair?
Hallie: Wait. What's it called? Oh, a moose! Are you going to put that in my hair?
Me: (OOOoooh! I get it now! inward laughter--outward try-to-conceal smirk) Mousse! Oh, mousse!!! I see, it's called 'mousse.' And, nope. Not today.

#132 Wipe Away Kisses

Jack, out of the blue, came up to me and said, "Mama, I can give you a kiss and I won't even do this," and then he wiped his mouth off with his arm (which is his custom whenever I've given him, or he's given me, a kiss). This was completely at random. I've never said ANYTHING about him wiping kisses away.

So, Jack leaned in and gave me a kiss—to which, I said, "Jack! That is so sweet! And you're not even gonna wipe your mouth?" But, to appreciate the fullness of what happened next, you have to realize that after I got the word “sweet” out, Jack froze—his arm halfway to his mouth. He realized he couldn't do it! He couldn’t not wipe his mouth, but the rest of my words had already spilled out, and he felt an obligation to keep his promise. 

He stood frozen about six seconds, slowly turned around, and with his back to me, discretely wiped his mouth. He then turned around, pretending nothing had happened, grinning as though he'd just done the sweetest thing. And, kind of, he had.