Still Crazy After All These Years

I think I will spend my lifetime trying to understand Jake. He's going to be our rebel, our heartbreaker. He's chocolate-covered espresso beans. He's a kitten with a switchblade.

Just the other night he came home from school, announced he was hungry, sat at the table and ate dinner. Broccoli. The entire time Bryon and I had one eye on him and one eye on our food, thinking that at any minute it would all come to a screaming end. (Don't look directly at it, don't acknowledge the good behavior, don't make any sudden movements.)

When he was done I gave him a hug and told him that was the best 'dinner Jakey' I had ever seen. "I was happy all day," was his response.

Apparently his 'day' ended about 20 minutes later when, beguiled by his good dinner behavior, I took him to the grocery store for the odd combination of fish food, milk and tampons. He thought that list should've included Army soldiers. I literally - literally - had to drag him from the store.

I stopped only to consider that the incident would've made an interesting What Would You Do episode of Dateline because although he was screaming and kicking and yelling, no one asked questions or tried to stop me. Apparently it would be fairly simple to abduct a child from my local Minyard.

But, back to Jake. I got him home, Bryon got him calmed down (after looking at both of us like "What the hell happened?"), Jake went to bed voluntarily. As we tucked him in, he looked up from his pillow and said, "Mommy, I love you all day."

Except from 6:15 to 6:45.