I don’t have any big parenting dilemmas or issues to discuss this week – well, I always have parenting issues, but nothing about which I have any coherent thoughts – so I thought I’d just share two stories with you guys.
I’ve sort of slacked off on the Friday Funnies for the past… long time… but this conversation happened yesterday so I thought I’d share it. I believe it really shines some insight onto how kids’ brains work… or in this instance, don’t.
The Nibbit and I had this conversation in the car (of course) and after the first couple of comments, I pulled over so that I could write them down. (See how I did that? See how I snuck in the fact that I wasn’t typing while driving? Mother of the Year!!)
The conversation never paused, so we just sat there on the side of the road… him talking, me answering (sort of not really) and typing frantically without letting him notice so that it wouldn’t interrupt the flow.
The Nibbit: I see eggs.
Me: Huh. Where?
N: Outside. Is it Easter?
Me: No, Easter passed already… remember when the Easter Bunny came and brought you that kick-ass basket? (No, didn’t say kick ass. But I WANTED to. WTF, “is it Easter?” Kids don’t remember shit. Next think I know, he’ll be saying, “I wish we could go on a vacation… just once” or “It would be so great if you’d just make mac & cheese three nights in a row for dinner!” as if those things NEVER happen. Whatever.)
N: How many days ago was it?
Me: I’m not sure … it was a little over a month ago.
N: Yeah, but how many DAYS?
Me: 48 (That was a lie guess, but he didn’t know that. Don’t judge.)
N: That’s a lot of days ago.
Me <bored with this conversation>: Hmmmm… let’s put music on!
N: Is there a road under us?
Me: Um, no.
N: How do you know?
Me: Because there aren’t many underground roads where we live.
N: How do you know?
Me: Because I think I would have seen or at least read about them.
N: Maybe they’re secret roads.
Me <going with it>: You’re totally right! That would be awesome if there was a whole intricate system of underground roads underneath us!
N <bored with this conversation>: It would be cool if there was a dinosaur farm. I mean, house.
Me <still trying to go with it>: You mean, living underground by the secret roads?
N: Mom, there are no secret roads.
Me: Oh, you convinced me that there might be!
N: No. You’re wrong. I was right. There’s not. But there definitely might be dinosaurs.
We have a tradition that every year in the spring, Grandma (KJ’s mom) comes up to our house for a weekend and she and Charlie (with some other helpers) plant flowers in our front yard. They’ve done it for the past three years.
I think it was the second year that we discovered that the hydrangea bushes we have along the front of the house (NOT the pretty kind) are somewhat diseased and have creatures living on them. (By creatures,” I mean “tiny worms that create cocoons around themselves with leaves.”)
Lovely, right? Well, the Loud One was THRILLED about this.
Every year, Grandma puts her straight to work finding all of these “cocoons” and taking them off of the bushes. Of course, LO has to unwrap every single one to check out the worm on the inside. She then says some form of farewell/apology – “Bye Mr Worm! Sorry I have to kill you!” – before throwing it into an enormous, black garbage bag.
Repeat this approximately 489 times and you have the absolute highlight of LO’s spring.
(Please don’t ask why we haven’t replaced the bushes with something healthy and perhaps, worm-free. Because I will lie to you and tell you that it’s not that I’m lazy; it’s just that it would kill my worm-loving daughter’s SPIRIT. Yup, that’s what I’d say alright.)
Well, we had this de-worming, flower-planting activity scheduled with Grandma this past weekend, but due to our unusually chilly nights, we were advised by people who really know what they’re doing (i.e. the nursery employees) to wait a few weeks.
The Loud One was really upset and Grandma was bummed because we’re not sure if Grandma will make it back up to plant. And LO knows that planting flowers with Mom and Dad won’t be NEARLY as much fun because we won’t marvel at all the worms she unwraps, like Grandma does.
Grandma says things like, “Good one Loud One!” and “That one is huge!”
Whereas Mom will say things like, “That’s disgusting; go wash your hands. Yes, again,” and “Please don’t show me anymore worms.”
So, Grandma came up anyway despite the flower-planting cancellation (which might have had a teeny tiny bit to do with the fact that Grandma was also babysitting our kids that night) and she and Charlie discussed how disappointed they were about not being able to strip sick worms of their
diseased bushes homes and plant flowers.
Grandma pulled out THIS:
What exactly is this, you’re wondering?
Well, THIS is a SKULL of a [presumably dead] SQUIRREL.
Should I repeat that?
Grandma brought the Loud One a SQUIRREL SKULL that she FOUND IN HER YARD.
You would have thought it was a free pass to an extra-large candy buffet. LO LOVES THIS SKULL. She brought it to the bus stop the next day to show her friends there. Then she brought it into school to show her teacher and her classmates.
After that, she left it in the car where it scared the bejesus out of me when I pulled it out of the backseat cup holder without looking first.
Grandma and LO are Nature Soul Mates.
I’m so glad and grateful that she has Grandma to encourage and appreciate her passion for all things disgusting nature.
Because she’s certainly not getting that stuff from me… you know, encouragement, appreciation, SKULLS.