Huck, in solemn tones: “Mommy, I like you more than television.”
How to Melt Your Mother
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Upcycling
Contrary to appearances, we are not giving away our youngest son (and all his toys, to boot). The neighbors put out this shelving unit and we thought it might be just the thing to replace our sagging makeshift TV stand. We stand corrected. What it is JUST THE THING for is setting up a shop, of course. What were we thinking? The Legos and Wedgits are being offered in lots ranging from “small pile” to “big pile” to “treasure.” When business is slow, you can fold yourself into your house and take a nap.
TV stand. ::snort:: What nonsense adults come up with sometimes.
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Serious business
So today I wrote this thing and then I wrote that thing, and then I spent a long time on that other thing, the result of which is that I didn’t finish writing this thing here. So all I have to report today is a long, amusing moment waiting outside Trader Joe’s while Huck painstakingly read the entire cautionary messaging on the seat of the shopping cart.
My favorite bit: “ALWAYS buckle up child in cart and fasten seriously.”
You probably can’t make it out in the photo, but what it really says is “fasten securely.” But Huck’s version certainly made sense to him. He took these instructions very seriously indeed and stoutly refused to stand on the end of the cart as is our usual arrangement. No, Mommy, look at the picture. (Pointing to another placard on the end of the cart.) The circle with the line through it means NO STANDING.
He’s getting too big to ride up front, but today he insisted, and he buckled the seatbelt both securely and seriously.
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Oh dear
Rilla: The next time I eat an apple, can I plant one of the seeds in the back yard?
Me: Sure!
Rilla: Oh good. I’ve really been wanting a climbing tree back there.
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Yet another of life’s eternal mysteries
Huck and Rilla and I have just finished reading three chapters of The Boxcar Children—they wouldn’t let me stop—and now I give Huck a big squeeze and say, “Okay, baby, time to go play.” He’s surprised I’ve called him “baby”—I usually say “monkey” or “my love” (same difference)—and shoots a reproachful gaze my way.
“I’m not a baby.”
“I know. But you used to be, so it still pops out sometimes.”
He considers. “But I am still little.” Burrows a little closer into my side.
“Mm-hmm.” His hair has that magical small-child scent, half fruity shampoo and half little-boy-sweat.
He takes a deep breath, as if about to unburden himself of a trouble. “That’s why I’ve been wondering…”
“Yes?” The moment has become suddenly fraught; whatever is coming, it’s clearly a serious matter.
“I’ve been wondering why nobody cuts the crusts off my sandwiches.”
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A most useful tome
Rilla: If you see a book called Trolls with a troll on it who has a very long nose, it’s out because I’m using it for the scarf I’m making.
Me: Oooh! What kind of scarf?
Rilla: One that’s twelve inches long. That’s how big the book is.
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Huckisms
“Do you like it better when yoyos have names? Because I named this one Ghostie.”
***
“Did you hear what I played on the piano? Like this—” (hums a melody) “But in a different tune.”
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Oh, is that all?
Wonderboy, perusing the family calendar as he is wont to do, observes: “We don’t have much going on in December. Just Ron and Larry’s visit, and Grandma and Grandpa’s visit, and Jane coming home from college, and my birthday and Dad’s birthday and your birthday, and the piano recital, and Christmas.”
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Overheard
(down the hall, top of the lungs) “I’m going to go see Mom!”
(thundering footsteps drawing nearer)
(cheerful bellow) “MOMMOMMOMMOMMOM!”
(in the doorway, casual everyday voice) “Hi, Mommy! Did I surprise you?”
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Milestone
Huck, age 5 years and 10 months: “I readed all of Peter and the Talking Shoes without being one bit loud. I readed it BY MY EYES ONLY. I didn’t say it out loud at ALL.”
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Well, I’m laughing
Huck to Scott, apropos of nothing: Do you still want to hear my knock knock joke?
(Still?)
Scott: Sure.
Huck: How does the chair…
[pause]
[confused look]
[disappointed look]
Huck: Knock knock.
Scott: Who’s there?
Huck: Chair.
Scott: Chair who?
Huck: Chair on your head.
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Exonerated
Me: Hey, looks like someone forgot to sweep up the dust pile.
Rose: Wasn’t me. I never sweep.
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I don’t know what I was thinking
Huck: Is there dessert?
Me: Why don’t you have a piece of your Valentines candy?
Huck: Actually, I ate it all immediately.
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No slamming
Today’s happy list is three keeper moments from my boys.
1. Huck, wistfully: “I wish no one in this family would have more birthdays. I like everyone the way we are.”
2. A story my friend Patti told me. Last Friday afternoon, Patti organized a wonderful St. Valentine’s Day party in the park for the kids in our homeschooling group. It fell during my work time, so Patti offered to keep an eye on Huck and Rilla for me so they could attend the party. So nice! Today she told me that in the thick of the festivities, Huck came up to her with a pine cone. “This is for you,” he said, “because that’s how much I love you.”
So basically this kid just has me melting all over the place these days. And I know how he feels—I wouldn’t mind having a six-year-old around at all times.
3. Wonderboy has a recurring kind of email he likes to send to family and close friends, describing what he wants to be when he grows up. Sometimes it’s a teacher or a “pet shop man” or a UPS driver. Today it was a librarian. As always, he included a long and detailed list of holiday hours—you wouldn’t believe how many holidays his library has special hours of operation for. After the list come the ground rules. If you want to visit his branch, here’s what you should know:
1. Please do not talk on the phone as you come in.
2. Do not run.
3. No yelling.
4. Please check out book.
5. Please return your library book as you are done.
6. No gum.
7. No slamming.
8. No child should be bringing toys.
9. Please bring your key and library card.
10. Use the computer if you want.
11. As it closing time, just quietly leave.
12. No iPod or iPad or Computer, or DS or WII.
13. Bring a bag if you have so many books.
14. Bring a bag if you return so much.
15. Please Park somewhere near the library.
16. Please lock your car if someone gonna steal it.
17. No animal noises.
18. No hitting and eating books.
19. No ripping books.
20. No crashing.
Got that? You’d all better behave yourselves.
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Color me stumped
“Mommy, guess what I am. It starts with the.”
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I was going to say “Sam” but that’ll do just fine
Huck and I are cuddled up in the big brown chair. His hair is getting long again, all rumpled curls on top. Face a little dirty, because it’s after nine in the morning. Big sweet eyes smiling up at me, waiting for a story.
“Once upon a time,” I begin, “there was a boy named—”
“ACID FIRE,” he interjects.
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Actually, it did
Me: OUCH
Rose: Are you okay?
Me: Bit into what I thought was potato, turned out to be half a peppercorn.
Rose (sympathetically): Aw! Would it help if I told you the Icelandic word for potato?
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The grass is always greener…
Poor, deprived Huck is enumerating for me the vast number of important life experiences he is missing out on because we have, and I quote, “just a big tree and sticks in our front yard instead of nice fake grass like Miss Lily up the street.”
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Huckisms
The younger kids and I have started spending the hour after dinner having family art time at the kitchen table. They mostly paint while I practice sketching, or Huck grabs markers and continues his mission to saturate every page of his beloved Angry Birds coloring book. I’ve taken to jotting down the funny things they say in my sketchbook alongside my (mostly very bad) drawings of them at work. A few choice Huck remarks from last night:
“When I was one—I mean zero—I swallowed paint. It tasted really good, like marshmallows.”
***
Rilla: “I know three people named Kelly.”
Huck: “I know Kelley Jones*. He likes jelly.”
*They’ve never actually met, but he’s seen Kelley’s name when he calls Scott to talk about the project they’re working on. I’m unclear on whether he does, in fact, like jelly.
***
“I bet all the kids with this coloring book are doing this with their moms right now, too.”
(Yes, I melted.)
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Dinner-table conversation
Rose: “Why are Huck’s dirty socks on my chair?”
Huck, much aggrieved: “They were on my chair first and I needed to sit down.”
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