Nope. just feeling them

So, this happened to a friend of mine. Or a friend of a friend. Or one of their friends. Point being that this would never happen in my family due to my informative, age appropriate and extensive discussions with each child on matters such as this.

So, my acquaintance's little boy was playing around the dinner table and the topic of boobies came up. Now, the friend was a bit stumped on said topic. Not that they didn't know the body part in question, just how it fit into the current discussion, namely, who wanted a cheese enchilada and who wanted chicken. So, after taking the dinner order and trying to figure out if it was a tortilla visual that did the trick, my friend inquired about the boobies. Namely, the little boy was asked if he was playing with the little girls' boobies at school. My friend didn't inquire about the teachers. First, didn't want to go there and end up with a compare and contrast exercise. Second, figured the school would have probably made an outbound call on that one already. To the police.

So, the little guy looked at my friend like they had just asked if the Pope is Catholic and replied, "Nooooooo. He then added, "Just feeling them." Friend did the proper thing. Told the little guy's dad he might want to handle it and left the room to look for other pre schools with open enrollment at the present time.

Two days later, the little guy announces at the dinner table that there is no school the next day. Added specific details like his teacher said it was so. In fact, it was Ms. Debbie, the teacher in charge. Said it right before they ate lunch. Told the whole class. A couple of times. Even shrugged in puzzlement at the dissonance between no school tomorrow and having to bring something for the letter "R" simultaneously for show and tell at school the next day. Agreed it seemed odd but the teacher said so.

Said he was just joking the next day when he got dropped off at school, which was open. Later insisted he didn't recall said conversation, demonstrating a predilection for becoming a politician or weather forecaster.

I guess all the fun has just gone out of it.

Introducing Nemo to Jesus

Took the kids to an Epiphany party a couple of weeks ago. Although we were solidly beyond the Epiphany period and had taken our Christmas tree down, we figured the party was a potluck and do we ever love food, especially when we don't have to cook it ourselves. Of course, a potluck requires us to bring a food offering ourselves unless the setting has a back door we can sneak in, something that can't always be guaranteed although we do our best to scope out a venue in advance. Fortunately, I am now quite a pro at the Gladware fake-out which involves carefully selecting some nice store bought goodie and then putting one serving of the same in the Gladware and then shaking the heck out of it, unevenly distributing the food substance throughout the container. I then put the rest of the food in for delivery. Everyone, with the sole exception of Martha Stewart, knows anything cooked at home doesn't have precise 45 degree angles and tends to fall apart so my method makes store-bought look like my own. Martha, I'm sure, does need her baked goods cut precisely into 45 degree angles and probably achieves the same by employing some little metal grid she designed with recycled tin foil, the packaging from a pair of tweezers and a needle. However, I'm wise enough to deliver my goodies with a few corners broken off to ensure that home goodness experience that all desire. That is, of course, if there is no confirmable back door at the venue.

So, we made it to the church for the party just in time for the food which was really good as we are all a bit rabid when hungry. The kids were dressed per the invitation, Mia as an angel and Aidan as a shepherd. Our costuming was brilliant in conception and lovely in execution although for some reason protested by the one old enough to know we were taking him to a party with a lovely patterned pillow case wrapped around his head. The pattern didn’t seem to be the issue but the medium sized binder clip, our fastener of choice when duct tape just won’t do, was. After I explained that binder clips were invented somewhere in Jerusalem around 1 B.C, and that moms who really love their kids don’t give their kids store bought costumes he relented. That and fear of mom's encroaching rabidity. I also threw in a robe sash for good measure.

The invitation also specifically stated that the children were to bring a stuffed animal to put in the manger during the Christmas pageant which is why we were bringing the kids dressed for action. So, the one that was old enough to be given a choice considered carefully and considered his sheep, baby Eeyore, and a host of other stuffed farm creatures. After some deep thought, he selected Nemo. A large, neon orange Nemo. Upon being counseled on how Nemo would just go belly up in the rarefied world of air versus water and then wouldn't fit down the toilet for disposal, he made sure I knew Nemo had made it in our home for three years and he didn’t expect a church to kill him. Having no effective argument left, Nemo it was.

So, we have the kids out in the hall of the church getting ready for the pageant and I send him, protesting, with Nemo. An aspiring thespian he is not. Having come into the hall a tad late, we hadn’t noticed that there was no manger. Nada, Zip, Zero. And as we were chasing Mia under the tables, we hadn’t noticed that none of the other kids had animals for the manger which didn't exist. So, after rehearsal, the kids parade in. Two Virgin Marys. One Joseph. Twelve or so angels. And ten or so Shepards but only one with a pillow case on his head. Carrying a humongous Nemo and looking at me with eyes that said something like, “I’m carrying a large orange Nemo to an invisible manger while wearing a pillowcase on my head. Has it not occurred to you that this is just wrong on so many levels?" I motion for him to stuff Nemo under the robe sash for an updated take on the whole Shepard thing called "Shepard just coming back from fishing." He gives me the "You are creating huge future therapy bills" look until I sneak up to him and calmly removed Nemo from the production. Mia approved. At least she gave him a round of applause.

He stuck the landing

There are times when you frantically run to your first born child after hearing the crash while anxiously inquiring "are you all right?", "Do you need the boo boo bunny?", "Did you hurt my floor/wall/fireplace screen?" and "Didn't I tell your father not to put that dangerous whatever there, you heard me tell him that, didn't you, doesn't anyone ever listen to me around here, do you men just go looking for reasons to put your eye out or what?"

And then, there is the time when you hear the crash and tell him you would be happy to help him up due to the fact that as part of his fall, he heroically saved the umbrella he had just been told not to break under pain of death. After you got a picture, of course. This was one of those times.