Archive for April, 2012

Mark Plans His Future

This morning on the way to school…

Mark:  “When I am a grown-up, I want you to drive me to grandma and grandpa’s, and I will live my life with them.”

Me:  “Okay.  But when you’re a grown-up, you’ll be able to drive yourself.”

Mark:  “I don’t know the way there.”

Me:  “I can give you a map.”

He’s clearly uneasy about this plan, so I figure it’s best to encourage caution in the rare moments when this child exhibits any.  “I can drive you the first time, and then you’ll know how.”

Mark (obviously relieved):  “Thanks!”

I should consider myself lucky, I suppose, he’s not planning to jump ship right now.  We just got back from a week  there, in which Grandpa cooked Mark whatever his little heart desired for breakfast.  Typically his little heart but outsized stomach desired a lot.  One morning he ate 16 pancakes, 2 fried eggs, and I lost track of the bacon.  It’s always a shock and disappointment, coming home, where breakfast is usually pop-tarts or frozen waffles.  Yesterday morning:

Mark:  “Will you make me pancakes?”

I had to drive them to school that morning anyway so I had a little extra time.  “All right.”

Pancakes are produced.  Chocolate-chip pancakes.

Mark:  “These are the best!”

Me (unable to resist):  “What about Grandpa’s?”

Mark (scornful, like I should have understood I was out of my league):  “These are the best.  Grandpa’s are the BEST of the best.”

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Older than Dirt, part 743

So we’re visiting my parents’ house, go looking for something or other, and a packet of my homework from middle school turns up.

Kate takes one look at the yellowed, mimeographed pages and exclaims, “You did your homework on PARCHMENT?”

Ouchie.

Let’s go over this one more time, kiddos…I study the Middle Ages.  I didn’t LIVE them.

Mark Worries on his Plants’ Behalf

When we moved in  July we bought a house covered in English ivy vines.  The backyard is similarly overcome with vines.  The process of trying to get the ivy under control, not to mention catching poison ivy from some sneaky hiding-in-plain-sight frondy villain–has made a serious detractor of vines.

Me (pulling yet more vines off the house):  “This stuff is EVIL.  Vines should be killed.  Killed with FIRE.”

Mark (wide-eyed, seizing two handfuls of vine):  “I’ll help you get wid of dem, Mom!”

And then Mark planted some pumpkin seeds.

They sprouted, two nice fat green leaves, which grew larger and then added a third to their number.

Me:  “They’re growing nicely.  Soon start to vine out and we’ll have to stake them out.”

Mark (horror-struck):  “They’re going to turn into VINES?”

Me (not yet making the connection):  “Yeah.”

Mark (gloomily resigned):  “So you’re going to kill dem?”

Me:  “No.  We’ll plant them in the garden.” (still clueless) “What makes you think I’d kill your pumpkin plants?”

Mark (not persuaded): “They’re VINES.”

So then I had to explain about GOOD vines vs BAD vines.  Later I realized apparently I come across to my children as the sort of person who’d help a kid plant some seeds, all the while planning to kill the resulting plant, right in front of said child.

I had no idea I give such a good impression of an abject sadist…

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