On the days where everything goes right, when dinner takes little work and the house sits clean and the Mister gets home early, I retreat into the bedroom to read. Or, on that night, edit pictures in my pajamas.
Shortly after a crop and just before a color adjustment, they both tumbled in. A door that could open gently, so I remember, crashed open from the force of exuberant youth. The shine of dad at home had worn dull far too soon.
What are you doing?
What’s for dinner?
What’s for dessert?
Can we have ice cream?
Can we go on a play date?
And Legoland?
Six questions too many. I asked for silence, just one little minute. Please.
Nicholas picked up the bra I left discarded on the bed, the green and yellow one with a touch of black, and waved it like a flag.
“Mama, which one of these things do you have behind your shirt?”
My disappointment at the interruption evaporated in the face of four year-old sentence structure. I’m used to it, the way his sentences roll out like red carpets I walk down to reach a logical conclusion. Behind all those words that aren’t quite right is a point. In this case, a question. He wanted to know which bra I was wearing.
I gave him my full attention. “That’s called a bra, Nicholas, and I’m not wearing one.”
He nodded his head in understanding. Then he reached over, palmed my right breast with his left hand and gave it a mighty shake before adding solemnly, “I can see that, Mama.”
I can almost see Mikey’s face at witnessing that episode … poor fellow! :)
Haha! Oh, how I hope blogs are still around in 15-20 years and that you’re still writing because I’d love to hear the re-telling of this event to an adult Nicholas. Hilarious!
Awesome.
Hahahahaha! Oh, your boys are precious, precocious, and lots of other words, too. Love it.
Hilarious! I am still laughing and I have been sitting here for a while. Part of the humor is that my three year old will hit my chest and ask, “Momma, what is this?” And then keep tapping them like they are punching bags. I wonder if I lose weight if I will lose some of these as well?
yup, boys are the best…
Excellent. Thanks for making me laugh out loud today ;)
Favorite post of yours, ever. No joke, this is just solid gold.
Too funny!
P.S. I almost always buy second hand clothes, but this weekend I treated myself to a neon pink slubby off-the-shoulder top and thought of you. And also myself in 5th grade in 1985, when I would have rocked the shirt with a mesh hair bow and a bevy of jelly bracelets :)
I love my hot-pink slubby t-shirt from Old Navy. So comfy and lightweight! I’ll see you your jelly bracelets and add you one pair of hot pink jelly shoes, which left my feet hot, sweaty, and looking like topographical maps.
Oh, the jealousy. I wasn’t allowed to have jellies because they weren’t “sturdy” enough. When they started popping up in stores again over the last couple of years, I was almost tempted to indulge, just so that longing would finally be satisfied.
My stupid feet have always been too wide for jellies – or any trendy shoe, until Doc Martens, which I rocked through the mid-90s and beyond. Can’t wait for that style to come back around, even though they weigh 20 pounds and give you shin splints in the grocery store :)
Oh that is scandalous, lol.
Oh, this just made my day. Hysterical.
LOL! I love it. A child’s honesty and bluntness never ceases to amuse and embarrass me. One time I was in the store buying tampons when my daughter, who was 4 at the time, happily states out loud “Momma, my period’s pink! What color’s yours?”. Let’s just say my face turned a bright shade of pink as I tried to hide from the scrutinizing eyes of fellow shoppers.
so so so funny! I will not forget that story for a loooong time!
I came across your blog and just had to comment on this beautifully written post. It made me laugh because it is SO true, especially at this age (I have an almost 4-year-old and she has NO boundaries). Someday we will know privacy again…
Thank you, Gina. I’m glad you stopped by. :)
Jules, I love your blog.. and I think this is the best post ever! Soo funny!
I never planned on children.. I met a man who had 3 boys and it didn’t take long before they were discussing calling me mom while I was shell shocked and picking up velcro closure sneakers. I can’t imagine anymore who I would be or what my life would be if they weren’t a part of it. I have to say that so you’ll understand why I am so thankful when people share stories like this because it makes me feel so much saner after things that leave me slack jawed and gaping. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a Dali painting and am waiting for flaming Serengti animals to go by. I feel better knowing totally crazy weird is normal even when you give birth to them. Oh yeah, and you did it with some styling writing, perfect post.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh…… that was awesome! Cute and rotten all at the same time. :)
I needed a good laugh right now. Thank you.