So when school started I completely expected Mac to come home and tell me things he'd learned that day. I was excited and in my mind I pictured welcoming him into the house, serving him cookies and milk (OK, more like a banana and granola bar) and asking him about his day and having him happily spill everything that happened at school. Not even close. He gets off the bus and runs inside, asks me for a snack then takes off back outdoors to play with the neighbours until supper time. Then, he wolfs down his meal (thank GOD - no more suppertime fights) while we try to pry out the odd detail about his day. Usually, it involves a story about how he either a) got hurt or b)watched someone else misbehave. And when I ask him if he ever does the things that he's saying the other kids do, he looks at me solemnly and tells me "No, Mom, I use my gentle voice and I didn't touch anyone."

However, the one thing I was sort of expecting, but didn't think would happen this fast, is the bad habits he's bringing home. Since starting school, he's had this crazy intense, defiant, you-can't-tell-me-what-to-do attitude that has landed him in trouble a lot. He's also adopted a snarky voice and facial expression that makes my hackles stand on end and causes me to grind my teeth in an effort not to react negatively. We're working on this.

But the one thing that has stuck with him wasn't learned at school. Last weekend was opening weekend for hunting partridge in our WMU. We packed our new camper and headed out to our spot. My brother in law and his family were staying out as well for the night. The kids ran and played all afternoon and I guess at some point, Mac peed his pants. And. Didn't. Tell. Me. And continued to run around in the sand for the entire evening. I went to help him get ready for bed that night and when I undressed him I noticed that his area was raw. I guess the combination of dampness, friction and sand did a number on him. He was in significant discomfort and I ended up having to put some of Isaac's diaper rash cream on him. And that was that. Or so I thought.

The other day, as he was getting ready to join us at the table for supper, I asked him if he had to use the restroom first. His answer?

"No, mom. And I'm never going to pee my pants again. Because I don't want my pecker to fall off."

Thankfully, I was around the corner from him in the kitchen so he didn't see me nearly stroke out from laughter. I couldn't figure out though, how my husband was able to keep a totally straight poker face and agree with Mac. Until he told me later that HE was the one that told Mac that.

Parenting level: Ninja. Well played baby, well played.

Popular Posts