Recent events have had me yearning for the simpler (in my memory at least) times, when the kids were younger and the biggest crisis we seemed to face was what to tell them about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. An evening spent one-on-one with Other Kid, who's about to turn six (SIX!!!!) reminded me that those long lost days had some pitfalls of their own.
For one thing, he requires constant entertaining--even though tonight my contribution consisted mainly of slouching back on the couch while he orchestrated a Beanie Baby attack on my head, it seemed endless and exhausting. For another, the conversation often leaves much to be desired.
At one point, trying to distract him from beating me in the face with a stuffed (but surprisingly firm) anteater, I said, "Hey, I heard you went to Ponderosa for dinner."
His response--which he gave all in one very long breath--was, "Oh yeah, and I ate everything they had there, they have nothing left, ha ha, tricked ya', I couldn't really do that, my stomach isn't big enough, but for such a small butt crack, I sure can poop big turds."
Yeah, I'm not missing those days so much anymore.
On the Other Paw
11 hours ago