Where’s The Kid?

Little Boy often likes to sleep on the floor of his room, even though he has a perfectly good bed.
So the other day when I saw a blanket-covered lump on his bedroom floor, I strode carefully around it when I went inside in the morning to open his blinds and wake him.
Then I was surprised to find a second lump over near the window, and noticed that this lump had actual kid feet sticking out from under the blanket. I realized that this was really the kid, and the other one was a decoy.
Still, it looked so real, I wondered if maybe Little Girl had come in during the night to sleep in her brother’s room, even though this is something she had never done that I know of.
I cautiously poked the lump with my toe and discovered that it was Tommy, the stuffed elephant.
 Tommy is a BIG stuffed animal, as you can see.
By this time Little Boy had woken up and was beyond delighted that he had fooled me. He showed me how he had arranged the blankets just so, making it look like a person was under them.
I told him he was quite the trickster. That night, he decided to repeat the joke, apparently.
I looked into his room after he had fallen asleep and found he’d set up multiple blanket decoys all around.
I honestly had no idea which lump was my kid in there. I could only be sure that he was NOT in his bed. 

 

We need to socialize more, apparently

I took the twins to a holiday craft fair on a recent weekend and I noticed that my nine-year-old son may need some help responding appropriately to people in social situations.

A lady in one of the booths was making conversation while we looked at her wares. “What school do you go to?” she asked Little Boy.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. “Why?” he asked. “Are you trying to FIND us?!”

(I guess you can’t get away with anything with this kid!)

But, of course, that was a stranger, I told myself. He’s not used to talking to strangers. Still, he seemed to also have a problem with people he knows.

Unexpectedly we saw his teacher in another booth. She greeted him by name and asked, “How are you?”

Again he seemed suspicious and said slowly, “I don’t know how to answer that.”

Well!

(Truthfully I think he was just confused at seeing his teacher outside of school. Isn’t she supposed to LIVE in the classroom?)

Overheard in the backseat

Image result for ipad kids
image from amazon.com
I was driving the twins to the dentist and they both had their iPads to play with while they waited.
This meant that they were blissfully silent in the back seat and I was enjoying listening to the radio in peace. The guy on K-Love was reading Bible verses. I sighed happily.
Suddenly the quiet was broken by Little Boy’s voice. “Butt cheeks!!” he hollered at the top of his lungs. “Butt cheeks!!”
I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Little Girl was taking a video of him with her iPad.
“Don’t call me butt cheeks,” she said sternly.
Unsurprisingly, he smiled and continued to yell over and over, “Butt cheeks!! Butt cheeks!!” while shoving his face near the iPad camera.
She said, “I’m recording this. And you’re going to look like a jerk when I get famous.”
Little Boy just grinned more widely and kept on yelling of course. 
Don’t you wish YOU had nine-year-old twins too?

DON’T SAY THAT!

The twins are nine now and have recently discovered the existence of Bad Words.

Obviously they find such forbidden words fascinating, and often tell me about something they heard another kid at school say with an air of shocked glee.

  • Kid:”I would never say this, Mommy, but Tanner said the S word. The S H word, Mommy. The S H I word. The S–”
  • Me: “Yeah, yeah. Stop now; I get it!”

This has led to some less-than-fun conversations about what these words actually mean.  Ugh.

Anyways, this summer we happened to pass a mall with a Dick’s Sporting Goods store and they noticed it. 

Image result for dick's sporting goods
image from dickssportinggoods.jobs

Little Boy stage-whispered to his sister, “Look!!” She gasped. “That store is named after a bad word.”

I remained silent and listened to them process this shocking information together in the back seat. “Why would they do that?” Little Girl wondered aloud.

“Maybe it’s the name of the guy who owns the store,” Little Boy mused. “Maybe that’s his name and he named the store after himself. ”

Little Girl was horrified. “Why would anyone name their son after a penis?” she said.  

He’s Not a Fan

We went to a show at the big library in my hometown where my uncle, who is a children’s musician, was playing a short concert.

The library’s theme for their summer reading program was “Build a Better World,” so at the end of the show he told the kids to think of something they could do to help make the world a better place. “Tell one of the library ladies your idea on the way out,” he said, “and they’ll give you a sticker!”

I took the twins over to where kids were lining up for stickers and told them to think of something to say. I suggested recycling.

“Grown-ups love it when you say you are going to recycle,” I told the kids. No one liked that idea.

Little Girl decided she didn’t really want a sticker but Little Boy seemed to be thinking hard. When we got to the front of the line, he whispered something in the library lady’s ear.

“What?” she said. “I can’t hear you. How would you help make a better world?”

I leaned in to help listen and heard my son say, “I’d help the library put on better shows.”

I yanked him out of line before anyone could hear that statement and pulled him aside. “You can’t say THAT!” I hissed. “Think of something else.”

He looked at me. “Well, if I got the sticker I could try to make it last forever,” he said. “That would be good for the world.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just go back over there and tell the nice lady you are going to recycle, okay?”

He sighed and got back in line. “I’m going to recycle,” he said dispiritedly.

“Oh wow!” said the lady excitedly, handing him the sticker. “That’s a great way to build a better world!”

Little Boy looked less than enthusiastic, but he stuck the sticker on his shirt and came back to me. I was pleased to have avoided having him trash my uncle’s concert to library management, and he seemed fairly happy with the sticker, so I’ll call that a win/win.

Note: Later on, Little Boy was talking about how much he’d liked the show, so I said, “Why did you want them to get better shows then?”

It turns out that what he’d meant was that they should have more shows at the library LIKE THAT ONE. So I suppose he wasn’t actually trashing the concert… but it had sure sounded like it!

Oversharing in the Airport

We were going through the airport security checkpoint on our way back from visiting relatives for the summer when my bag was picked for extra inspection.

I suppose it looked suspicious because it was crammed so full of stuff.

The TSA agents dug through my backpack, randomly swabbing various items to test for bomb residue (including some paperback novels, my half- finished quilt squares, and a bunch of Laffy Taffy candy). I wondered which of the Laffy Taffies looked the most likely to be a bomb, since he was only checking some of them.

My nine-year-old daughter took the opportunity to ask me: “Mom, what’s a trophy wife?”

I tried to think of an explanation. “Well,” I said, “I guess it’s a wife that’s way better than the other wives so she costs a lot of money.”

All the TSA agents around us burst out laughing.

I shrugged. “Sorry guys,” I said. “Looks like she’s been listening to people trash-talk each other on family vacation.”

Do we still look suspicious?

The Fidget Spinner

This summer on family vacation, Little Boy purchased a fidget spinner at the souvenir store.
In case you haven’t seen one before, it’s a plastic and metal thingy that kids an spin around in their hand for fun.
They are wildly popular and were being confiscated left and right by the teachers at the twins’ elementary school all year for disrupting class. This of course makes them all the more a fabulous and coveted object in the world of kids.
He was extremely excited about his new fidget spinner and showed it to everyone at the vacation house. In a family full of schoolteachers, this did not go over well. Invariably they said, “Ugh! I hate those things!”
But Little Boy loved it! He played with it all the time.
That’s why I was surprised a day or two later to come in and find the fidget spinner resting in a pan of hot water in the kitchen.
“What’s this?” I asked. Little Boy complained that Little Girl had gotten annoyed with him and taken the fidget spinner away. “And she put it in her UNDERWEAR!!” he finished with indignation.
“I see,” I said. “So now it has to be sterilized?”
He eyed the offending object doubtfully. “Dad said he could get it clean but I don’t know…”
Well, so much for the fidget spinner, I guess!

 

It depends on what the definition of “old” is

Conversation with my just-turned-nine-year-old son:

  • HIM: Is Adventure Time an old show?
  • ME:  I guess… I mean it’s not a brand-NEW show…
  • HIM: So it’s old, then?
  • ME:  Well, I wouldn’t call it OLD, exactly…
  • HIM: Why not?
  • ME: It wasn’t around when I was a kid or anything.
  • HIM: (laughs) Well I know THAT. It’s in color!
  • ME: How old do you think I am, kid?
image from https://collectionofawesome.com