. . .things of note:
1) Preface: Whenever I go to the gym, I allow the older boys to each bring a handheld gaming device to play while they are in the gym childcare room. Basically, it’s incentive for them to look forward to sitting in a room with 20 other children (mostly toddlers) while the in room TV pipes in something a little too “Barney” for their sophisticated tastes. ;-)
So, on the way to the gym this morning, No. 2 was playing his DS and was audibly frustrated that he couldn't "get to the next level". . .couldn’t "remember the code". . .or, maybe it was, couldn’t "find the secret passage way." The root of the problem escapes me. And in any case, these sorts of gaming dilemmas have forever been officially proclaimed “not a Mommy job” (other such jobs include: replacing batteries in annoying noise-making toys, mowing grass, and taking out the trash), so I remained quiet as he mumbled his grievances to the universe. No. 1, however, both a tender heart and an avid gamer, hopped to the challenge! He answered his brother’s suffering with a almost too-happy, “Hey, I’ll do it for ya!” No. 2, truly a product of his mother’s consumer skepticism, replied, “Are you an honest man?”
2) On the car trip from the gym on the way to Sam’s I over heard another gaming gem: This one I shall call “The Master of the Simile”. . .
While STILL helping No. 2 achieve bigger and better gaming heights, No. 1 proudly announces to the carload: “Oh, this game is just too easy, it is just like me eating a piece of a cake." Yes, English is his first language and, yes, that was supposed to be a figure of speech.
3) On the way home from Sam’s (and a last minute tacked on Wal-mart stop), No. 3 fell asleep in the car. Noticing this fact through my rear view mirror, nary 5 minutes from our front door, I commented aloud.
“Oh, poor baby, he’s already asleep!”
From the backseat: “He’s not poor, he’s got plenty of cash. He’s got a bank account!”
*Sigh.* I took this as an opportunity to discuss how people can be “poor” in a lot of things, not just money.
I queried to the captives, “What if I said, ‘Son, you seem to be poor in kindness.’ What would that mean?”
From the backseat: “I’m being mean.”
Me: “Right. You can be poor in lots of things. . .”
From the backseat: "Like, what about poor in patience?"
From the other side of the backseat: "Yeah! Mom gets that."
*Sigh*
1) Preface: Whenever I go to the gym, I allow the older boys to each bring a handheld gaming device to play while they are in the gym childcare room. Basically, it’s incentive for them to look forward to sitting in a room with 20 other children (mostly toddlers) while the in room TV pipes in something a little too “Barney” for their sophisticated tastes. ;-)
So, on the way to the gym this morning, No. 2 was playing his DS and was audibly frustrated that he couldn't "get to the next level". . .couldn’t "remember the code". . .or, maybe it was, couldn’t "find the secret passage way." The root of the problem escapes me. And in any case, these sorts of gaming dilemmas have forever been officially proclaimed “not a Mommy job” (other such jobs include: replacing batteries in annoying noise-making toys, mowing grass, and taking out the trash), so I remained quiet as he mumbled his grievances to the universe. No. 1, however, both a tender heart and an avid gamer, hopped to the challenge! He answered his brother’s suffering with a almost too-happy, “Hey, I’ll do it for ya!” No. 2, truly a product of his mother’s consumer skepticism, replied, “Are you an honest man?”
2) On the car trip from the gym on the way to Sam’s I over heard another gaming gem: This one I shall call “The Master of the Simile”. . .
While STILL helping No. 2 achieve bigger and better gaming heights, No. 1 proudly announces to the carload: “Oh, this game is just too easy, it is just like me eating a piece of a cake." Yes, English is his first language and, yes, that was supposed to be a figure of speech.
3) On the way home from Sam’s (and a last minute tacked on Wal-mart stop), No. 3 fell asleep in the car. Noticing this fact through my rear view mirror, nary 5 minutes from our front door, I commented aloud.
“Oh, poor baby, he’s already asleep!”
From the backseat: “He’s not poor, he’s got plenty of cash. He’s got a bank account!”
*Sigh.* I took this as an opportunity to discuss how people can be “poor” in a lot of things, not just money.
I queried to the captives, “What if I said, ‘Son, you seem to be poor in kindness.’ What would that mean?”
From the backseat: “I’m being mean.”
Me: “Right. You can be poor in lots of things. . .”
From the backseat: "Like, what about poor in patience?"
From the other side of the backseat: "Yeah! Mom gets that."
*Sigh*
1 comment:
Truly enjoyable and I too am poor with patience
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