I have discovered that the Kid will be an awesome blogger as he gets older. He never stops talking. It’s like this constant stream of random, five-year-old consciousness coming from him. When it’s not inane questions about things (why, why, why…?) then it’s not-so-educated discourse on where sneezes come from, who I’m going to get married to, and how he can now snap his fingers. So I’m driving him today to go meet up with his dad, and the entire 40 minute drive goes like this:
TK: Mom, I think these lines are made with chalk. I think they drew the lines with chalk. (He’s talking about the lane separation lines on the highway.)
2N: You think so?
TK: Yeah. But they have bigger chalk than I do because the lines are really big. And they’re really long, mom. How big do you think the chalks are, mom? Do you think they’re big? Not as big as me though, mom. Because I’m a big kid.
2N: Well, son, I’m pretty sure those are painted lines and not chalk.
TK: Why? Why do you think they’re not chalk? I think they’re chalk. Hey mom, who are you going to marry when you get growed up? I’m going to marry Lily. She’s going to get bigger than me. I like when she picks me up. I guess I have to marry her. Who are you going to marry, mom?
2N: Oh, son, I’m probably not going to marry anyone any more. I’m kind of married out.
TK: Why mom? Why you not going to get married? Hey! Did you see that guy on that red moka-cycle? I think you’re going to marry my dad. Yeah I think so. Like you did before, when you were married before. I think you’re going to marry my dad.
2N: (With coffee spraying from my nostrils) Oh, I don’t think so, kid. I don’t think that will happen.
TK: Why, mom? Don’t you like my dad? Oh look I can snap my fingers, mom, can you do that? My hair looks good too, mom, don’t you think my hair looks good?
(Much snapping of fingers ensues, plus comparisons of how both our thumbs bend over backward in a reverse “L” and how his daddy’s thumbs don’t do that.)
TK: Mom, every time I snap I get older.
2N: You do?
TK: Yeah, can’t you tell? Can’t you see my hands getting bigger and bigger? I can see it. So can my dad and my sister and my brother. I’m sooo serious mom! I’m so serious, they seriously are getting bigger. Oh dear. (This last bit cracks me up because lately he’s started mimicking phrases he hears. For example, today he was playing with his toys and making up some sort of fight scene, and the “voice” of the soldier guy, after having been run over by the remote control car, was crying, “My ovaries! My ovaries!”. I wondered where he got that…he didn’t get it from me. He gets stuff like, “For the love of pete” and “Dear Lord” and “dammit!” from me. Maybe from his dad…)
TK: Mom, can you pause the music? Can you pause it please?
2N: There’s no pause on the CD player honey. Why do you need the music paused?
TK: Because I can tell I’m going to sneeze. Sneezing starts here (pointing at ears) and I can feel it in my ears. Or maybe just boogers. Mom, do you think boogers cause the sneezes? Because I have lots of boogers. I think you have boogers too, mom, do they make you sneeze?
I explained that I do have boogers but I don’t think they make me sneeze. At which point he digs enthusiastically in his nose in an attempt to excavate all the boogers so he doesn’t sneeze. We then have a pleasant conversation on why he should not dig out his boogers, which takes us up till the time we meet his dad. Then we go through the snapping thing again, and The Kid decides to invite me to dinner with his dad and his girlfriend. Yeah, I declined, but it was cute that he asked, anyway. I think kids were invented to make awkward situations with their parents, I really do.