Proof my kids communicate in a language I will never understand:
I’m sitting on the couch, reading a book. My son is across the room, frozen in the ‘Nintendo DS’ pose– head down, eyes glazed, thumbs working furiously. I am completely immersed in the latest Stephen King book when I barely hear, “Hey, Mom?”
I keep reading.
I look up from my iPad and squint through my glasses.
“Huh?” I ask. My son puts his nintendo down and leans forward, a grin on his face.
“Mom?” he asks again.
“Yeah?” I ask, my mouth open, my eyebrows raised in anticipation of whatever pressing news he has to share.
“MOM?” my son yells.
“YES?!” (Has he lost his hearing? Have I?)
“MOM?!” he yells even louder. (Am I in the Twilight Zone?)
“WHAT?!” I yell back.
He immediately dissolves into giggles and snorts, “Ha ha! Now you have to get rid of it!”
I blink and look up at the ceiling for a moment.
“Okay…uh…get rid of what?” I ask in spite of myself.
“Yeah, you need to get rid of what!” he laughs hysterically again.
“What?! Get rid of what?” I cry, really wishing I was back in Lisbon Falls, Maine circa 1960 with Stephen King’s imagination.
My husband walks into the room and says, “Oh yeah. You guys playing the ‘what’ game? See, you call someone by name until they answer with ‘what’ then you tell them they have to pass the word ‘what’ onto someone else by calling them by their name, so you can get rid of it.”
Figures my husband would understand it.
Proof I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be five years old:
My daughter loves to write and color. One morning, I gave her a stack of paper with some pencils and crayons and she went to work. She was busy for awhile, then handed me a pink piece of folded construction paper, her face beaming with pride.
“Well, what do you have here?” I asked and unfolded it to find a blank page. “Oh, you want me to draw something for you?”
“No,” she said, a little irritated. “Read it to me!”
“Um….read what? There’s nothing here, it’s blank.”
“I wrote you a letter, and now you have to read it to me,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Okay…um….” I said. “Do you want me to help you write a letter?”
“No!” she was very agitated now. “I wrote it with my finger! So now you have to read it back to me!” she announced, hands on her hips.
Sometimes there is just no getting out of certain situations when you’re a parent.
Proof my kids know more about relationships than I do:
I was flipping through an old photo album of our wedding pictures. My daughter loves to look at pictures as much as I do. She was pointing at every one, asking me who was who and what was happening in the photos. We were at the end of my big book of wedding pictures, when she saw one of us kissing at the altar. Her eyes got real big.
“Why are you doing that?” she asked.
“Oh. Well, see, when you love someone and you want to spend the rest of your life together, you get married and so–”
“EW!!!” she squealed. “You and Daddy are married?! EWWWWWWWW!!!!” And she got up and ran away.
Proof my daughter understands the concept of time more than me:
We were looking out the window at the night sky. She points up and says, “See those stars, Mommy? That’s where people go after they die. To heaven to be with God. And then they come back down again later and pick another family to live with.” I was pretty taken aback at her view on life and death because we haven’t even touched on the subject yet. I gave her a big hug with tears in my eyes.
Then she said, “So–y’know how you want a dog? But I don’t because they’re scary and they bite and scratch me? Well, you can have a dog. But not until after you die and go into your next family, because you aren’t going to have a dog in this family, okay?”
Well, at least I have somthing to look forward to after I die.