June 2009 Archives

Jude was asked to clean his room Thursday night before he could play.  It looked terrible; there wasn't a spot of floor that was safe for walking.

Naturally he was overwhelmed with the task, so I came in and helped by telling him how to break it down: first, picking up costumes; then, toy tools; then action figures; etc.  Karenna just watched and echoed her "half-a-mommy" routine.

It took a lot of prodding...

Sometimes, he'd forget he was cleaning and play with each toy.  (That's the kid curse: "May you get what you are." Chris was someone who had to play with every item every time I helped him move to a new place. Now Chris's punishment is to see things through my eyes watching Jude do it.) 

Sometimes, he'd argue. "How many more times do I have to clean my room anyway?" I gotta tell you kid, it doesn't stop. It doesn't get easier when you get older, either; you just get a bigger place to clean--and maybe a few small whiny minions to help you clean it. Mwahahaha!!!!

Sometimes, he'd fake an ailment. "I'm sick. My head is really hurting me bad."

"Oh," I'd say feigning concern even more deftly than he could feign sickness, "Well, maybe when you are done cleaning you can go to bed early."  Mwahahaha!!!!

"No," he'd fake a cry with crocodile tears, "I think I need purple medicine."

"The only thing that fixes a headache is rest," I insisted, "so let's hurry up and clean so you can get rested."

"I don't think it's a headache," he whines as he lowers his hand from his head and begins to clutch his stomach as if someone shot him there, "My stomach hurts!"

"Well, I think you really need to go to bed then!" Gotcha!  With that he was reduced to a few complaints about cleaning for a few minutes before the whining resurfaced...

"When are we going to be done cleaning already?" he whined.

Enter Karenna's melodrama, "Ugh! Jude, I am sick of your whining!"

"Karenna, if you're sick you have to go to bed early." Jude told her in his best "half-a-daddy".

"No, I mean you're giving me a headache..."

"Karenna, if you have a headache, you..." (Well, you get the picture from there.)

This is one that a few readers from a certain circle of friends may appreciate even more than others...

At dinner Jude got up from the table and asked politely if he could be excused to go to the bathroom.  When I told him he could, he put his hand on my shoulder, leaned in closely, got a devilish look in his eye, whispered, "When we're in the bathroom, we can say bathroom words!"

TSR peeps, I wonder where he gets this from.

One night I put both my kids to bed and found that I was faced with very tough, but very different questions from both of them:

Karenna (concerned): Why are people born if we are just going to have to die anyway?
Jude (puzzled): Why do we have eyebrows?

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