Perspective and Genetics

Mom: "Colbyman, why don't you let me hold on to your Harry Potter glasses for the Halloween party."
Colby: "Why, Mom?"
Mom: "Because I don't want you to lose them."
Colby: "I won't lose them!"
Mom: "Where are they right now?"
Colby: "They were just in my ha-- I don't know.  WAIT!  Here they are on the coffee table."
Mom: "See?  You're the world's Greatest Thing Loser. I'll put your glasses in my purse, and then they won't get lost."
Colby: "Mom.... I'm not the world's Greatest Thing Loser.  I'm the world's Greatest Thing FINDER, because I'm always having to FIND the things that aren't there anymore."

OOOOOOHHHH.  HMMMM.  It's all how you look at it, isn't it Little Man?

Editor's Note:  "World's Greatest Thing Loser" is a dominant genetic trait that he inherited from the maternal side.  As proof -- after putting the glasses in my purse for safe keeping, I proceeded to LOSE MY PURSE for 20 minutes as we were getting in the car for the Halloween party.  As I was running around like a madwoman, family loaded in the truck and ready to go, I was screaming at my husband to HELP ME AND NOT JUST STAND THERE AND PLAY WITH YOUR PHONE!!!  He looked at me calmly and said "I'm calling your cell phone to find your purse."  Oh.  Sorry.  And... there it was, in the car, where I had put it to get ready to go to the Halloween party.  Poor Colbyman.  I'm sorry you got "thing loser-ness" from me.  By the time we got to the party, Colby had lost his Harry Potter tie, that had been STRAPPED TO HIS NECK.  Sheesh.  No one put the two of us in charge of National Secrets or anything, PLEASE.

Understatements

Colby (coming in from outdoors where the boys had been playing):  "Mom, can I have a washcloth?"
Mom: "Why do you need a washcloth?"
Colby: "Quinn's a mess."
Mom: "You guys had better not be playing in the mud!  What did Quinn do to make himself a mess?"
Colby: "It's gushing."  That got my attention.
Mom:  "WHAT is gushing?"
Colby: "His head.  It's gushing blood."

OK.  Could you maybe ramp up the excitement level just a BIT, there Colby????  I went outside to find a scene from "Carrie".  You know.   This:

It was gruesome - the kid was covered from the top of his head to his torso with blood.  I could barely see his eyes.

Mom (in a total panic): "QUINN!!!!  What happened!!  ARE YOU OKAY?????!!!!"
Quinn, nonchalantly: "Colby thought I was dead, Mom.  I'm getting blood up my nose."

Well, LOOK at you, kid.  You LOOK dead.    If Quinn was actually dying, though,  I would hope Colby would come in shouting "EMERGENCY EMERGENCY EMERGENCY" instead of lackadaisacally sauntering in to ask for a washcloth.

For the record, Quinn is fine.  Head wounds bleed profusely.  It's superficial.  But STILL.  SHEESH.  That much blood should cause a LITTLE BIT MORE OF A STIR.  Good grief children. You scream bloody murder when I trim your fingernails, and THIS is no big deal?????

ADDENDUM:  Washed the child up, put pressure on the wound until it stopped bleeding, then began carving pumpkins at the kitchen island.  Quinn fell off his stool and hit his head on the corner of the granite.  I found him whimpering on the floor, otherwise I wouldn't have known that he fell.  When I asked him if he was okay, he just said "That's going to turn into a goose bump, Mom."  And continued carving.  These hard-headed children.  Give their Mom a heart attack!!!!

The Yucky Kind of Chicken

Colby: "Mom, what's for dinner???"
Mom: "Chicken and rice."
Colby: "What kind of chicken?"
Mom: "Broiled chicken.  You know.  Chicken."
Colby: "You mean the kind of chicken that's been SHOT?"
Mom: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......."
Colby: "Or do you mean good chicken, like chicken nuggets?"
Mom: "I guess the kind that's been shot."
Colby: "NOOOOOOOOOOO!  I don't LIKE that kind!!!!"

Unfortunately, I completely understood what Colby was talking about.  Let me take you on a little tour of his brain, to understand where the description of "shot" chicken came from....... free associate with me here...... boneless, skinless chicken breast is  unprocessed and you can actually tell that it's real meat, which obviously came from a real chicken, that had to DIE in order for it to end up on our plates (thus, it has been 'shot')....whereas chicken nuggets are processed to the point  where it seems apparently that those chickens just "lay" little nuggets, without it causing their death.   Not only are chicken nuggets more humane, but they taste better, too.  In Colby's world.

Am I That Transparent????

After church today, while I was waiting for the boys to get out of Sunday school, a five year old boy (who had sat in front of us during the service) came up to me and said THIS:

Little boy: "Your boys annoy you during church, don't they."
Me: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Well, sometimes they have a hard time sitting still and paying attention."
Little boy: "That's because of the baby.  She's always bugging them."

So, my perceived subtle cues to keep the boys focused are seen right through by A FIVE YEAR OLD.  OK.  In my defense, little boy..... do you have any idea how hard it is to control three energetic kids by myself for an entire hour during a quiet, meditative MASS??????  YOU are surrounded by both parents, grandparents, and two sets of aunts and uncles - none of which have other children.  Maybe I could borrow some of your adult supervision for MY horde in the back pew!

The Gluten Free Diet

Quinn: "Mom, this bread feels like copper!"
Mom: "Uh, what?"
Quinn: "It's totally heavy, like copper!"

Gluten-free bread is not going over especially well in the house just yet.

Warnings:

Colby was up at 5:30 this morning.  I made him crawl into bed with me until 6:30.  He did not go back to sleep, but squiggled for a full hour.  When Quinn got up at 7 am, he came to me and said "Mom, Colby's acting weird."

Mom; "Weird?  Why?"
Quinn: "I don't know.  Weird.  He's upstairs watching Yoga."
Mom: "That's not too weird."
Quinn: "Yes it is.  I don't know.  He's just being weird."

So then Colby comes downstairs, climbs into a rocking chair, and says "Mom, I can't walk".
Mom: "You just walked right over there.  I watched you."
Colby: "But I'm heavy.  I walk weird."

He ate a full breakfast, he doesn't have a fever.  What am I supposed to do with "weird" and "heavy"????  That both boys are catching on to Colby's "weird" vibe worries me, but I'm at a loss until something a little more definite presents itself.

I have a feeling a little boy may be getting sick.  Great.

Diagnosis at this point: general malaise.  That's a "you're still going to school" diagnosis, thank you very much.