Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Let me entertain you

"Look at me!" 

I turn around in the passenger seat (we were two hours into a four-hour roadtrip) to see The Lad wearing a huge grin and a his dad's baseball glove on his head. 

"Look at me! Look at me! This funny!"


I don't know what I did to piss off the woman in the SUV behind us on the way home from work, but she certainly was angry. She rode my bumper all the way down the parkway and flashed her lights at me, I guessed, when we pulled off into our neighborhood. I pulled over, expecting to get screamed at, but also not wanting to get run off the road. She squealed her tires and went around me, speeding on our residential road. 

"What's the matter, Momma?"

"Oh that woman is just angry." 

"Her car broken?" The Lad wanted to know. 

"No. She's just angry, kiddo." 

"I make her funny."

"I bet you would make her laugh, Beastie." 

"Yeah, I make her funny."


The Boy loves sweatbands. He's had two, both from the dollar bins at Target. One disintegrated, so the other one has been much cherished lately. They are a toy and a fashion statement for him. He throws them and wears them, flings them and shows them off. 

He made the mistake of taking it with him to the toilet tonight. 

"Momma, can you help me wipe? And my sweatband fell in."

It was not pretty. I found my oldest, most disposable mixing spoon and went fishing, then threw everything away. (Observation: Parenting is gross.) The Boy was heartbroken and wailing through all of this. For 30 minutes all we heard were moans and cries and gnashing of teeth. Tears streamed down his face as he yelled, "SWEATY! MY SWEATBAND! I WANT MY SWEATBAND!" 

In the midst of all this, The Lad was supposed to be cleaning up his cars. He stopped to follow his brother's wails. 

"Rhys-y sad. I make him funny. Hey Rhys-y!"


This kid. 

I try not to think about what my boys will be do when they grow up. They're going to change so much between now and then, it's anyone's guess what careers will attract them. But lordy, this Lad. If my little Beastie Beast doesn't entertain people somehow, some way,  I will be shocked. He's such a natural little comedian. He loves to make people laugh. And he's good at it. He's silly and his sense of timing is perfect. He pratfalls and tells jokes (though right now they consist mostly of his shouting nonsense words or "POOPY!"). And then he flashes that dimple and sparkles his eyes and you can't help but laugh with him. 


k said...

I love this.

And in that photo, all I can stare at are his smooshy arms and hands.

Erica said...

The sweatband story is killing me. I've fished so much poop out of our bath tub I think I would probably have put my hand in the toilet without even thinking about it. I know, gross!
An unrelated note - the word verification thing on your comment form is slowly killing me. It's really hard to use with a phone. But I am COMMITTED so I don't let it stop me. But maybe something else instead?

clueless but hopeful mama said...

LOVE the photo! Toddler humor at it's finest!

Cupcake Mama said...

I seriously believe that you are either a poo or vomit kid/parent. You are always dealing with one. I have vomit kid.