Saturday, November 29, 2014

The Sometimes Tooth

Son #2 loves sweets.  He especially enjoyed the sweeter dishes at our Thanksgiving dinner.  My youngest son savored the sweet potatoes.  He relished the jello salad.  He devoured the pumpkin pie.  His eyes partially closed as he tasted each delectable morsel.  Aaahh.  Life at the dinner table was good.

Now, Thanksgiving Day had come and gone.  Yet, we still had leftovers.  With that in mind, we got together with my mom and brother after church today to polish off the food.  We took great care to pile our plates with our favorite dishes.  I filled my youngest son's plate with mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing and cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, candied yams, and the ever delicious jello salad.  I filled my oldest son's plate as well.

My oldest son will eat sweets but does not typically eat them on a regular basis.  He enjoys eating fruit, vegetables, and salty snacks.  Today was no different.  He picked out mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing without cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, no candied yams, and absolutely no jello salad.  He cracks me up. 

My mom commented.  "Son #2 sure does have a sweet tooth."

I agreed.  "Absolutely.  He's just like his dad."

Son #1 looked thoughtful for a moment and then added to the conversation.  "My baby bro has a sweet tooth but I don't think I do.  I think I have a sometimes tooth."

"A what?"  My mom asked.

"A sometimes tooth."  Son #1 repeated.

"Oh."  I said.  "You mean you only like sweets sometimes."

"Yeah."  Son #1 explained.  "Sometimes, I like sweets.  That's why my tooth is called a sometimes tooth."

Monday, November 24, 2014

Salary vs Celery

One crisp, fall afternoon, we hopped into the car and took a spontaneous trip out to a lake.  We had never taken the boys to this particular lake.  In fact, the only person familiar with this lake was my husband.  He had worked at a couple of business in the town beside the lake when he was in his early twenties. 

The trip was short as we exited from the freeway and turned south toward the lake.  On the main strip, my husband pointed to local landmarks.  Then, we passed his former place of employment.  My husband smiled nostalgically.  "Hey, Son.  That's where I worked when I was young."

"You did?"  Son #1 said as he peered out of the car window.  "What did you do there?"

"I was the manager."  My husband said proudly.

"You were?"  Son #1 said in surprise.

"Yes."  My husband replied.  "I earned a pretty good salary, too."

"A celery?"  Son #1 was confused.  "I wouldn't want to get paid with celery."

My husband wrinkled his brows, perplexed.  I raised my eyebrows.  Then, my husband asked.  "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd rather earn money than celery.  That stinks!"  Son #1 explained.

My husband and I looked at each other.  Then, we giggled.  "Hey, Son."  My husband called out.  "I didn't earn celery, the vegetable.  I earned a salary, like money.  Celery, the vegetable, is spelled C-E-L-E-R-Y.  Salary, like money, is spelled S-A-L-A-R-Y."

"Huh?"  Son #1 said.  "That's weird!"

"Sorry, Son."  My husband responded.  "The English language is weird."

Sunday, November 16, 2014

The Three Second Rule

While the boys' uncle was in town, we made a run to the grocery store to buy some goodies. We wandered down the cookie, chip, and candy aisles looking for delicious treats to buy.  Finally, we settled on a couple bags of candy, an extra large bag containing a horrifically, sugary cereal, and a few different salty snacks.  Son #1 and Son #2 were wild with excitement.  We very rarely pick up these kinds of treats.  The kids hung from our arms like wild monkeys as we rushed to purchase the junk food.  Then, we headed home.

At the house, we began to unpack the grocery bags and place things in the cupboards.  Their uncle ripped open a few of the snack bags and began to hand out the treats.  Son #1 and Son #2 shoved the food into their mouths as fast as they could go.  They were on a high speed race toward a sugar high that I was sure would last until morning.  Suddenly, one of the candies fell from Son #1's hand and hit the floor.  Son #1 looked around, unsure of what to do.  I put my head to the side and said.  "Pick it up.  There's a three second rule."

Son #1 bent down to pick up the candy.  He straightened up and asked.  "What's a three second rule?"

"It's the number of seconds food can touch the ground before you can't eat it."  I explained.

"Huh."  Son #1 shrugged.  He inspected the candy once more.  "So, it's O.K. to eat?"

"Sure."  I nodded.

Son #1 held the candy in his hand for a moment and then turned to his younger brother.  "Here bro.  Here's a candy for you."

Son #2 took the candy without question and popped it into his mouth.

"Mmm.  Yummy!"  Son #2 exclaimed.

My eyes widened with surprise.  I guess that's one way to test out the accuracy of the "Three Second Rule".

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

The Video Games

One warm evening, my husband's brother treated our family to pizza.  The kids excitedly hopped into their car seats screaming.  "I want pizza!  I want pizza!"  Then, we lazily drove to the pizza place located a couple blocks from our house.  When we arrived, the kids scrambled out of their car seats and raced for the door.  Inside the restaurant, we ordered buffet meals and piled our plates with delectable treats.  Yum.  There is nothing like pizza and salad after a long day of work.

Now this little pizza parlor has a room in the back filled with video games.  We decided to sit as close as we could to the games because the boys are completely obsessed with this room.  As we ate, the boys kept craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the shiny lights and music.   The lights and music emanating from the video games were like a siren's song.

Every few minutes, Son #1 asked.  "Can I go play a game?"

Each time, I answered.  "First, finish your food."

Then, Son #1 sighed.  "Aww!  I wanna go now."  However, the whining immediately stopped as soon as he caught a glimpse of my stink eye.

Son #2 piped in once or twice.  "I go play now."

"Finish your food."  I muttered between bites of pizza.  However, Son #2 ignored my stink eye and tried to wriggle between the chairs.  Fortunately, my husband snatched our young son up to his lap and delayed his escape.

Eventually, the boys finished their food and rushed to the change machine.  Son #1 slid their dollars into the machine and collected their coins.  Son #2 tugged on his older brother's shirt and began to screech like a Howler Monkey.  Obviously, Son #2 wanted his coins immediately but had no words to express his desire.  I jumped up from my place at the table to fix the situation.  Once the boys were settled at their chosen games, I returned to eat the rest of my food.

My husband, brother-in-law, and I enjoyed a great conversation.  Periodically, we peeked through the windows of the game room to check on the boys.  The boys were completely engrossed in the video games so we continued to relax at the table.  I sipped my soda until it was gone.  Then, I decided to check on the boys once again.  As I peeked through the window, I noticed that I could only see Son #1.  My heart jumped into my throat in fear.  Where was Son #2?  There was only one exit to the game room and we were seated right beside it.  Where could my little boy be hiding?  I scanned the room again and then noticed that Son #1 had four arms.  Hmm.  I peered at my eldest son and then noticed that he also had two heads.  I smiled warmly and felt a bit of relief.  My sweet eldest son was helping his younger brother play a racing game.

Monday, October 13, 2014

I Want to be a Coach.

For years, Son #1 has wanted to be a race car driver or a football player.  He has written about it in his "All About Me"  books for kindergarten and first grade.  He even has a framed picture that his first grade teacher gave to us for Christmas that states his dreams and aspirations.  I cherish each and every one of those keepsakes.

One Sunday afternoon, we watched the Cowboys play against a rival team.  Everyone had on their Cowboy jerseys.  The boys wore their Dallas Cowboy caps.  We screamed, cheered, and yelled at the T.V.  Every down was excruciating.  During the commercials, the boys threw the little football around the living room.  Sometimes, Son #1 performed slow-mo football in front of the television.  After the commercials, we yelled to the boys.  "Sit down!"  The cheering got so loud, you can hear muffled shouts out in the backyard.  I guess we live in a crazy house during football season.

A couple hours later, the fourth quarter was almost over.  The Cowboys were in the lead while we hopped up and down screaming with delight.  The seconds ticked down as the opposing team threw an interception.  Our house erupted in shouts of joy.  "The Cowboys win!!!!!!"  Son #1 and Son #2 gave high fives to everyone in the room.

After the game ended, we cleaned up the snacks and washed a couple dishes.  Son #1 lay on the couch and sighed.  "That was a cool game."  He said.

"Yeah."  I agreed.

"Hey, Mom?"  Son #1 peeked his head over the couch.

"What Baby?"  I responded.

"Do you know what I want to be when I grow up?"  Son #1 asked.

"Sure I do."  I replied.  "You want to be a race car driver."

"No.  Not anymore."  Son #1 said with a smile.

"Um...O.K.  You want to be a football player."  I said confidently.

"Nope.  Well, sometimes I want to be a football player."  Son #1 stated.  "But right now I want to be something else."

I was confused.  "What do you want to be?"

"A coach!"  Son #1 announced.

I was thrilled.  "You do!  That is so cool.  Do you know a coach is a teacher?"

"Yeah!"  Son #1 replied.  "I want to teach football!"

I have to say that if my son wants to be a coach/teacher, it is because of the amazing teachers in his life.  We have been very blessed.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Cortana says. "Go to sleep!"

My husband has a personal assistant.  Her name is Cortana and she resides in his phone.  When Cortana first began her tenure as our assistant, my husband and the kids peppered her with questions.

"Cortana, where does the puffin live?"  Son #1 asked.

"Some puffins live in Greenland."  Cortana replied in her metallic voice.

"Cortana, what is the temperature today?"  My husband said playfully.

"The temperature is 75 degrees."  Cortana dutifully responded.

"Cotana, whe dwo da wewo diwa wagin?  Son #2 babbled.  (Translation:  ?????)

"It does not compute."  Cortana shrugged, confused by the request of our youngest son.

The kids were awestruck by Cortana.  Every chance they got, they would ask their dad about Cortana.  When my husband had time, he would pull out his phone so the kids could ask more questions.

A few days later, Son #2 struggled to fall asleep for the night.  Every five seconds, he stumbled from his room begging to stay awake.  I would pick him up and carry him back to bed.  Then, I would sit by his side and hold his hand as he tried to relax.  Sadly, Son #2 was too wiggly and restless.  I finally gave up and let him wander around the living room while I rinsed dishes.

Eventually, my husband came home from playing racquetball.  As he lugged his workout bag into the house, he caught sight of Son #2 rolling around on the floor.  Then, he looked at me and asked.  "What is he doing up?"

"The little monkey won't go to sleep."  I replied irritably.

"Huh."  My husband mumbled thoughtfully.  Then, he dug into his pocket and produced his phone.  I raised my eyebrows but remained silent.  My husband knelt down beside Son #2.  "You need to go to bed."  He said sternly.

"No no no.  I want to sleep on da couch."  Son #2 argued.

"Then, go lay on the couch but you need to go to sleep."  My husband responded.

Son #2 crawled onto the couch but lay there with eyes wide open.  "Close your eyes."  My husband commanded.  However, Son #2 stubbornly forced his eyes to stay open.

My husband showed the phone to our youngest son and repeated his request.  "Cortana says 'Close your eyes and go to sleep.'"  Son #2's eyes widened with surprise.  Then, he quickly shut his eyes, rolled over, and fell asleep.

"No way!"  I whispered to my husband as I checked on our snoozing son.  My husband chuckled impishly.  He patted his phone and placed it on the night stand.  Cortana is an excellent assistant.