The other day on our way home, I was telling my son a story, which ended with ‘wasn’t that funny.’
He looked at me and screamed, “Mommy, I am not laughing with you.”
And then he said it again: “Mommy, I am not laughing with you.”
Are you laughing at me? I asked him.
“Mommy, I am not laughing at you.”
Well that is a relief.
Other funny things this week:
• When my son was yelling about something else, I told him not to scream at me. The next time he was yelling, he told me “Mommy, I am not yelling at you.” He was yelling at the iPod, apparently for not working right.
• His new thing is to tell me what to say so he can respond the way he wants. So he tells me, “Mommy, say, ‘Spiders are yucky, E’.” So I say it. Then he responds with “No, spiders good. They eat squitoes.”
It’s nice to know that while my son doesn’t think I am funny, he is at least listening to me.
• “Mommy, you ran over my foot.” Yes, I did run over my son’s foot with his own high chair, why do you ask? I felt so badly particularly since he looked like he wanted to cry but was trying to be brave.
• “Mommy, what did you call me?” I had called him Baby. “I am not baby. I am big boy.” True. How sad.
• “Mommy, you can’t have bubble gum, you’re big. I’m little. I like bubble gum.”
• I had the flu this week and my little one was a good nurse. He was eating porridge and he said to me “Mommy, you eat breakfast to make your tummy feel better.” I passed. Later, he insisted raw mushrooms, gross at any time, would make me feel better. “Choo, choo, Mommy. Eat it. It will make tummy feel better. Eat it. Eat it.” He didn’t believe me when I pretended to take a bite. I can’t fool this little guy.