It's times like these when I worry that I'm raising hoodlums.
Take the other morning. Jace brings me a card.
"Mom," he says, "this is for you."
Oooh a card how suhweet!
"Is this a swear word?"
And then he takes off out of my room and down the stairs like his pants are on fire.
Wow. That is sooooo sweet.
Or that tender moment betwixt me and the homies, reading.
And ended up in tears and an all-out brawl over which book and who couldn't see.
Not one book was read. Not.one.
Just lots of crying and pushing. And a really pissed off mom.
Or take last week's puppet making activity.
"Mom, what are those things called on my chest again? Oh right. Those are his nipples."
Oh Goody. You got your puppet's nipples covered. Er, I guess I could say uncovered. Most people wear their bowties above their nips, however.
Did I mention the word hoodlum?
And finally, at this moment,
(well, you know, before I sat to actually type it)
I've got a giant wad of bubble gum in my mouth, and the homies are taking turns popping each bubble, all the while laughing hysterically. And I'm thinkin',
"Man I've just added 10 trillion germs to my mouth with these stinky sweaty hands."
"Jace needs a haircut."
"Please don't smack me in the mouth. I've got a canker."
"Forget everything; this is where it's at."
Hoodlums or not.