Friday Funny!

The difference between little boys and little girls is so huge. Think Grand Canyon. No, that's not an exaggeration. 

My little guy is so literal. As a writer, I tend to speak with a lot of metaphors and other figures of speech. When Z1 was younger, I had to really watch myself because he would take me at my word.

Case in point: One night when Z1 was about 4, I put him to bed. We read a book, I tucked him in, said prayers and kissed him goodnight. At that point, you know what I'm thinking,"Yes! Freedom!" And then comes the call,"Mommy, can you come here?"

"What do you need?" I reply.

"Just come here."

So I go in and say,"What is it, son?" And he looks at me with those angelic blue eyes, smiles and says,"Uhm, I forgot." 

Now, this is fine the first time. Even the second. But after about ten minutes of this game, with increased pleading and increased denial and many utterances of,"Just tell me in the morning. Go to sleep now," I finally gave in and walked into his room.

I open the door and sit down on his bed, ready to have a little talk. "Can you tell me what you need, my love?"  He stammers and stutters for about 15 seconds and I say,"What is it son? Just spit it out!" 

For a brief second he gets a confused look on his face. Then he promptly clears his throat, hacks up some snot and hocks a loogie at his bedroom door.

I am not even lying.

With questioning eyes he looks back at me and says,"Did  do that right, mom?"

How can I be upset at that? It's my own fault. He did exactly what I told him to do.

Yours, hoping your weekend is happy,

Melissa