I Swear
I have written in a few days. I catch myself prompting Sam into 'blog worthy' conversations because, day to day, not a lot is going on. That said, I think that is when you miss important things, when things fall through the cracks, when you look back and realize that Sam is basically a kid, that Jake runs all the time, that we, for all intents and purposes, have adopted another cat, and that we are almost through January 2006.
Yes, just when I think Sam is all grown up - he did after all tell me he was ready to move out and get his own wife - he'll say something incredibly sweet and wacky, like my feet smell like lemons or ask if he has to leave the family when he grows up. Nope, sorry kid, family is forever!
I have to appreciate his sense of humor and retort. We were cleaning up toys over the weekend when I commented on how sad I was that we didn't keep better track of the thousands of dollars of Thomas engines we purchased over the past two years. "Well," he said nonchalantly, "I don't know what to tell you." Or when I commented about my bad decision to get the morning's paper in my sock feet and he told me "Maybe you should try SHOES next time."
Lately he likes to say "Damn it" - when he drops his fork, when he falls off his bike, when you've promised to read two stories but he's begging for a third and you say no.
Last night I asked him where he's heard it. "From you and Dad" he said as he pointed with one hand and shoveled mac and cheese into his mouth with the other. I offered a compromise. "I tell you what. Next time you feel like saying it, or the next time Daddy and I feel like saying it, let's say something really silly, like 'beans and weenies' or 'by the hammer of Thor' or my personal favorite, 'sweet cracker sandwich.'" I tell him it's just not a nice thing to say (like stupid or shut up, he asks).
Personally, I don't care if he curses. I think it will pass and with him, I know if we make a big deal out of it, so we'll he. But I am fearful it will come up at an inopportune time, specifically his school evaluations this weekend and next. I can just see it: "Hello Sam. My name is Miss So-and-So. Would you like to play centers with some new friends?"
"Damn it, I want to play home living!"
Yes, just when I think Sam is all grown up - he did after all tell me he was ready to move out and get his own wife - he'll say something incredibly sweet and wacky, like my feet smell like lemons or ask if he has to leave the family when he grows up. Nope, sorry kid, family is forever!
I have to appreciate his sense of humor and retort. We were cleaning up toys over the weekend when I commented on how sad I was that we didn't keep better track of the thousands of dollars of Thomas engines we purchased over the past two years. "Well," he said nonchalantly, "I don't know what to tell you." Or when I commented about my bad decision to get the morning's paper in my sock feet and he told me "Maybe you should try SHOES next time."
Lately he likes to say "Damn it" - when he drops his fork, when he falls off his bike, when you've promised to read two stories but he's begging for a third and you say no.
Last night I asked him where he's heard it. "From you and Dad" he said as he pointed with one hand and shoveled mac and cheese into his mouth with the other. I offered a compromise. "I tell you what. Next time you feel like saying it, or the next time Daddy and I feel like saying it, let's say something really silly, like 'beans and weenies' or 'by the hammer of Thor' or my personal favorite, 'sweet cracker sandwich.'" I tell him it's just not a nice thing to say (like stupid or shut up, he asks).
Personally, I don't care if he curses. I think it will pass and with him, I know if we make a big deal out of it, so we'll he. But I am fearful it will come up at an inopportune time, specifically his school evaluations this weekend and next. I can just see it: "Hello Sam. My name is Miss So-and-So. Would you like to play centers with some new friends?"
"Damn it, I want to play home living!"
posted by Romine Family at 12:28 PM
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