You know those women who freak out when they realize they are beginning to sound like their mothers? I should only be so lucky. The things I say in response to my two year old’s antics make me sound like a lunatic.
My son has this ride on truck that he loves. The seat flips up and he stores all his treasured possessions in there. His match box cars, his cheese its, a sippy cup of juice, rocks he found. If it’s important, it’s in the truck.
Earlier today, he had a little baggie of graham crackers I prepared for our walk. He took his sippy cup of juice/water and was trying to shove it into the baggie and obviously it wouldn’t fit. He was getting frustrated. I was also getting frustrated because he was holding up things. I said, exasperated, “Jack, stop trying to put your juice in that bag and put it in your truck where it belongs!”.
Then I stopped, thinking “In the truck where it belongs?” Oh yeah sister, get a grip, you are just barely hanging on here.
I have also recently found myself advising on why we should not put parmesan cheese on ice cream, what mr. peepee diaper had to say, and that if there was another single can of mushrooms stacked on the kitchen table, he was going to the naughty step, mister.
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2 comments:
You are so funny.. I guess I am so glad to have my youngest now turning 5 years old. I have 3 kids. Ages 11, 8, 5. Oh do I remember the first words that sounded like my mother. And let me tell you I was one of these people that said I will never do what my parents did to me. Now I find myself telling my son no phone calls after 9pm. (Oh lord, help me....)
Or to at least put his cell phone ringer on the supersonic ring that only young teens who have not been to rock concerts yet can hear.
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