Another One for Mommy's Macabre Memoirs

My son likes to hear stories of how I messed up as a kid, or of times I got hurt. I know, right? So in the car on the way home last night, my son piped up:

Kiddo: Mommy, does it hurt if your nail comes off?

Me: Well, yes.

Kiddo: Like, does it hurt a LOT?

Me: Um, yes. Why do you ask?

Kiddo: I was just wondering.

Me: Is your nail coming off?

Kiddo: No.

Me: Okay, but let's cut your nails tomorrow, okay?

Kiddo: Okay. But does it hurt a-lot-a-lot-a-lot if your nail comes off?

Me: Yep, if your whole nail comes off. (holding up my finger and showing him how big the nail really is) You know how I know?

Kiddo: How?

Me: Because when I was a kid, I was playing a game with another friend and, I think, Auntie _____, and my friend Karen asked if she could play, and I said no, and she threw her toy camera at me, and guess where it landed!

Kiddo: Where?

Me: Right on my pinky fingernail.

Kiddo: Right on your fingernail??

Me: Yup.

Kiddo: Then what happened?

Me: Well, it bled and it bled and it bled, and I cried a whole lot, and my friend's mom came out and wrapped my hand in a towel and then walked me home, and my mom put a big bandage on it, and I lay on the couch all afternoon with my hand up a little so it wouldn't hurt so much, and my friend who threw the camera had to come over and apologize to me.

Kiddo: Wow. That must've hurt.

Me: It did. And then it turned colors.

Kiddo: Like what colors?

Me: Like purple or blue...

Kiddo: And yellow?

Me: Yeah, but first green, then kinda yellow.

Kiddo: AGH!!

Me: Yeah, it was gross. And then you know what?

Kiddo: What?

Me: My nail fell off in about a week or so.

Kiddo: AAAGGGHHH!!

Me: Yeah, you're right about that.

Kiddo: So how did you get a new nail?

Me: It just grew back when it was ready, and now my finger looks just fine.

Kiddo: Oh.

Me: But you know how I said my friend had to come over and say sorry to me?

Kiddo: Yeah...

Me: Well, I didn't think about this when I was a kid, but when I got to be a grownup I realized I should've apologized to her, too, for telling her she couldn't play with us.

Kiddo: Yeah, why did you tell her that?

Me: I was being naughty.

Kiddo: Oh. But that doesn't mean she can just throw a camera at you!

Me: True...

Kiddo: I mean, she coulda killed ya! That coulda been the end of your life!

Me: (laughing as I explain that people don't die from Fisher-Price cameras...)

He's Full of It, All Right

Today while I was working, the kiddo played a video game that became more challenging than usual, and he was frustrated and wanted my help. Hey, I may not be a video game expert, but I've seen enough of them by now that I can make suggestions like "Maybe you can bounce on the walls to get across the water," and "There has to be a secret switch somewhere. Have you used the banana launcher to make the monkey stand on that spot over there?" I have a high enough success rate that my son now consults me, of all people, on the tight spots he gets into. So today he was diligently trying to get to the next level of some game, and he came in to ask for help, but I had more calls to make and really couldn't take the time right at that moment. His cheeks were pink and the sun was shining into the room he'd been in, so I asked him if he was too hot in there. "No, but I'm full of anger," he said calmly as he walked out. Cracks me up.

Because We Don't Have a Ladder or a Black Cat

My son is on fall break and he has a cold/cough besides. What better time to let him sit in the hot, steamy shower with his umbrella? Hey, whatever works. It's a good thing I'm not (too) superstitious. ;^)

Yesterday I discovered a set of hinged chopstick-type thingies in my purse. They'd been there since the Fourth of July, when my sister generously gave my son some gummi bugs that came with the hinged apparatus, which has a red light in the tip and therefore makes the gummi bugs appear to glow when you pick them up. Naturally my son was more enthralled with the device than with the candy itself, which was fine with me. He never wants to gorge himself on candy, and I often question whether he's really my son. But I digress. So yesterday I pulled out these things and gave them to my son to play with, and he promptly pronounced them "Japanese pliers." Which is exactly what they look like, when you think about it.

That kid cracks me up. Of course, since I laughed at the Japanese pliers reference yesterday, he's been saying it all day today, so the name is losing its oomph. But when it comes to beating a perfectly good joke to death, yes...he's definitely my son. ;^)

Leave Your Love Song at the Tone...

My son is with his dad this weekend, and this afternoon he left me a message on the answering machine:

"Hi, Mommy! I just wanted to tell you I love you very much! Well...bye-bye! [pause] Oh, and I just wanted to say [breaking into song] love ya, love ya, love ya...SO MUCH! [dubious pause] Except if I dialed the wrong number...well...you don't have to listen to this...okay? [very quietly] Bye."

I cannot wait to scrunch him up when he comes home tomorrow...

:-)