It’s always nice to see proof that your children actually do hear what you have to say. I am one of those mothers who maybe shouldn’t have been a mother, what with my aversion to germs and dirt, and all of the things in between. But a mother I am, and with that comes a “passing on,” you could say, of my unusual predilections.
My son’s friend, B., came over again a few days ago. I don’t mind the kid being here, since there aren’t many children that can deal with my son. As a matter of fact, there aren’t many adults, either… but that’s a story for another day. So the boys are sitting on the couch and all of a sudden, the other boy lets out a long fart. Ick!
I automatically turn with this look on my face – because I’m one of those people with manners, you know. My son (bless his heart!) says, “Say excuse me, B.” I couldn’t believe my ears! It’s nice to know that he has heard something that I have said, since he doesn’t listen to any of my other complaints….
Like what? you ask. Oh, those complaints. Yeah, I have aversions to a lot of things… water fountains, trash cans, dirt in general, taking out the trash, raw meat, having to hold money, other people touching my food, cigarette butts, metal grates, bathroom walls…. Shall I continue? No? I didn’t think so. It’s a fact: my life is definitely strange; I’m a weirdo.
My son, however, not so much. He is fairly normal, a typical boy, I suppose. I mean, he acts like the other boys in the neighborhood, except he is a lot more hyper. So hyper, really, that no one else really wants to be around him a lot, because he never shuts up. And when I say never, I mean never. The kid talks from the time he gets up until the time he goes to sleep.
Not bed. Because with all of my aversions, evidently he has formed one of his own. He refuses to sleep in his bed. He sleeps on the floor, in a cardboard box, or on the couch. I can’t say I ever had any problem sleeping in my bed…. Although my husband does (he sleeps on the couch a good bit), so maybe that’s where it came from.
As a matter of fact, I think the next time I get on my husband’s case about sleeping on the couch, I’ll tell him he has passed it on to our son. What do you think he would say to that? Probably nothing, other than to glare at me, I would guess.
So the other day when B. was here, my little tape recorder son repeated several things that I had said, mostly about manners and where things were supposed to go. I guess he’s finally heard it enough that it has begun to sink in that you are supposed to wash your hands when you touch the trash can, or if you make a rude noise you should say excuse me, and please don’t leave the soda cans sitting on the counter until they reproduce.
All in all, I have to say that I was pretty impressed with the way he spoke to B. He wasn’t rude, he just made the comments that needed to be made in order for the house not to dissolve into chaos. Now maybe he will learn not to jump on those dadblasted metal grates!
Till next time….. try to stay warm. It’s cold here!