Okay, I’m not The Feminist Breeder (Rock star? Nope. Mega-blogger? Nope. Master’s candidate? Nope. Mother of three? Nope.), but I totally identified with this.
So, in a continuation of my last blog (and her blog as well), I AM cutting back on my commitments, but I am also still disorganized, forgetful, irritable, and generally apathetic. This is the point where Big A. chimes in. “It’s going to take some time to get over two years of sleeping six hours or less every night.”
Yeah, okay, but I don’t have time to wait for that!
Still, funny things continue to happen, creating little islands of fun in my fog.
S. loves jokes and asks for them all the time, but my well is running dry. So I reached back for an old, old, OLD one. Never dreaming she’d get it, I asked her,
“How do you stop a rhinoceros from charging?”
She thought for a minute, then said happily,
“You unplug the charger!”
Score one for Generation…well, whatever comes after Y.
Then there’s my little guy, who just turned five—big shout-out to you, Little A!
I love that he’s developing a verbal sense of humor. As a matter of fact, I’m convinced that’s why I encourage my kids’ verbal skills—so I’ll have people to be sarcastic with. He recently pulled off an ACW (Adult-Class Witticism), but you have to have a little background….
As part of their Cars franchise, Pixar released a series of cartoons called Mater’s Tall Tales. As the down home Mater tells each crazy story, his best buddy Lightning says, “No way!” or something to that effect. Then Mater says (every time), “You remember—you were there. You didn’t make it.” And then you learn how Lightning “died” in that story.
Well, Big A. planned to take some PTO to attend S’s amazing presentation on the octopus and he didn’t want to get her hopes up, so he hadn’t promised anything. But he did get to go and, on the way home, he said, “You did a great job, S. I’m so glad I could make it.”
Little A. perked up with an evil grin and said, “You were there…but you didn’t make it.”
Yeah, he totally knew what he was saying!
But Dad still takes the cake. He reigns supreme in the field of dry delivery, opportunistic wit, and general, all-around smarty-pants-ness.
Little A. made us a tea party. Never fear, it was a boy’s tea party. Our “blend” consisted of astronauts, Cars silly bands, Cars duplos, mardi gras beads, rocks, and probably some things we don’t want to mention. S. and I exclaimed over the amazing items in our tea blends, while Daddy bided his time, like a gator waiting to snap. Finally, there came a pause.
Picking up the toy jet on the tea table (Why not? Aircraft make great table toppers.) and dropping it in his teacup, he said,
“But I got plane tea!”
The very, super-duper, best part? We ALL FOUR burst into laughter at the same time.
Yes, this is what I’ve been waiting for—this is my mommy paycheck.