Snurt

As a mother I learn something new every day. 

Like the fact that “Mommy, wipe my snurt” coming from a 2 year old does not mean “wash my shirt”.  Although if I am not quick to wipe the snurt I will inevitably be washing the shirt…

*sigh* 

A Tattle Tale

“Mommy!  (The Poppet) broke my gun!!!” Wails that greet me as the front door opens and slams.  Tired of this bickering between siblings I respond quickly without digging to understand, never wise. 

“Alright, you tell Poppet that since she was careless with something of yours she will need to take care of your room (ie clean your messes) for the rest of the week.”

The Hero’s eyes get large with wonder.  “Okay.”

He turns to go and then his shoulders slump and he turns back slowly with a dejected look on his face.

“There’s more to this story?” I ask.  I’ve seen that look before.

“Well…..” very slowly, “She didn’t actually break it….” then gaining momentum as the confession draws nigh, “but she provoked me to throw it and THAT made me break it!”  and the wails begin afresh.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.  I think I sighed and then laughed.  Silly boy.  He knew darn well no one else could take the fall for that but him.  And truth be told,  the broken gun was fall enough. 

Incidentally I also cracked up over his use of the word provoked.  I don’t know how many times in a day I must use that word in relation to my kids interactions.  *Sigh*.

It’s All Good.

“Lord you gave your rules to be obeyed completely, I wish I were more loyal in obeying your demands.”

Words that wring a mother’s heart.  Overheard being recited by my five year old littlest hero up in his room after a gentle reprimand for unwieldy behavior that while innocent could have seriously hurt someone.  As I passed by his room where he was changing into his pj’s I heard him quote this part of our Psalm 119 memorization 3 times and then go straight into singing, “Do to others as you would have them do to you, do to others as you would have them do.” 

Gotta love a tender heart like that, no matter how exuberantly violent his limbs may be.

Unprintable Words

We started a new family read aloud tonight. Cheaper by the Dozen by the Gilbreths. The first two chapters had us howling although I had to do a couple quick edits of sacrilegious language on the fly. I’m quite good at this and the kids don’t usually realize any different. Tonight there was a cute little exchange though when I read this;

“Once a neighbor complained that a Gilbreth had called the neighbor’s boy a “son of an unprintable word”.

All of my kids routinely put their hands over their mouths and smirked and snickered and the Poppet’s eyes got round as she admitted “I know that word.”

Silence all around.

“You do?” this from the woman who up until this moment believed her 7 year old daughter still possessed an untainted vocabulary thanks to a rather sheltered existence.

“Oh yeah.” eyes still wide.

“Well, how do you know this word?” I ask hesitantly.

“Oh MOMMY. EVERYBODY knows that word.” with a little roll of her eyes.

“And that word would be….?” I ventured, still refusing to believe the worst.

Eyebrows raise. Head pulls back. “You want me to SAY it?” she queries.

“Um. Yes….?”

“Well…. I won’t say the exact word, but I will say a synonym.” (on one hand I am thinking YES. My first grader has a working handle on what a synonym is. Whoot Whoot! On the other hand…. )

“Okay…”

“Son of a PISTOL!” she exclaims.

Now, why didn’t I see that coming? Seriously.

Long Time Coming

The Punkin’s first cut.