For those of you that wondered, this is what goggles look like in the tub.So today I'm wondering, "when did becoming practical qualify me as crazy?"
Today was "pajama" day at school. I like the idea, it wasn't mine. The whole class wore their pajamas to school and had a little parade were they "slept walk" through next year's class room. I like the idea of wearing the pajamas. I like the idea of them checking out next year's classroom. Totally cool right. So Big Boy typically sleeps in pajamas, but without underwear. Better then Daddy who chooses no pajamas and no underwear! When it was time to go to school, my lovely groom and the sitter start trying to convinced the Big Boy that he needs underwear. WHY? It's not like he's going to run around flashing anyone, there is elastic around the ankles. WHY? It's going to be 90 degrees today. WHY? He doesn't want to wear them. "Teacher said to just come in our pajamas," he cries. I send him to school with no underwear to the disgrace and disgust of the other adults in my household. But this follows an incidence.
The other night my lovely groom questioned, "why are the goggles in the bathroom?" Thinking to myself the answer is obvious, I was ready to respond saying "I use them to protect myself from all the mis-guided boy pee around the toilet." However I caught myself and told the truth, "the boys have been doing scuba in the tub." While no words left his mouth, the wheels were turning and yes, I'm sure he thinks I'm crazy. But if this gets them happy with having their hair washed, why should I complain.
We were in the grocery store and the Big Boy just could not keep his hand to himself. Touching everything! I asked him to put is hands in his pockets and then I caught him licking, yes licking, a package. He claimed to be scratching his nose, but I'm sure I saw his tongue sticking out! So I told him to sit on the floor until I was done at the deli. See we were going on a picnic and I really needed to get things and just couldn't walk out, which would have been my preferred form of discipline. A "lady" muttered "the floor is dirty" then left. I wasn't sure if she was offended that (a) I asked him to sit on the floor, (b) told her that it was cleaner than him at that point in the afternoon, or (c) told her I thought it was cleaner than sitting on the floor behind the deli counter, that really got her moving.
I love my boys. Practicality rules. I hate being the parent.
Today was "pajama" day at school. I like the idea, it wasn't mine. The whole class wore their pajamas to school and had a little parade were they "slept walk" through next year's class room. I like the idea of wearing the pajamas. I like the idea of them checking out next year's classroom. Totally cool right. So Big Boy typically sleeps in pajamas, but without underwear. Better then Daddy who chooses no pajamas and no underwear! When it was time to go to school, my lovely groom and the sitter start trying to convinced the Big Boy that he needs underwear. WHY? It's not like he's going to run around flashing anyone, there is elastic around the ankles. WHY? It's going to be 90 degrees today. WHY? He doesn't want to wear them. "Teacher said to just come in our pajamas," he cries. I send him to school with no underwear to the disgrace and disgust of the other adults in my household. But this follows an incidence.
The other night my lovely groom questioned, "why are the goggles in the bathroom?" Thinking to myself the answer is obvious, I was ready to respond saying "I use them to protect myself from all the mis-guided boy pee around the toilet." However I caught myself and told the truth, "the boys have been doing scuba in the tub." While no words left his mouth, the wheels were turning and yes, I'm sure he thinks I'm crazy. But if this gets them happy with having their hair washed, why should I complain.
We were in the grocery store and the Big Boy just could not keep his hand to himself. Touching everything! I asked him to put is hands in his pockets and then I caught him licking, yes licking, a package. He claimed to be scratching his nose, but I'm sure I saw his tongue sticking out! So I told him to sit on the floor until I was done at the deli. See we were going on a picnic and I really needed to get things and just couldn't walk out, which would have been my preferred form of discipline. A "lady" muttered "the floor is dirty" then left. I wasn't sure if she was offended that (a) I asked him to sit on the floor, (b) told her that it was cleaner than him at that point in the afternoon, or (c) told her I thought it was cleaner than sitting on the floor behind the deli counter, that really got her moving.
I love my boys. Practicality rules. I hate being the parent.
1 comment:
I always look forward to your honesty and your great stories.
Have a wonderful weekend.
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