Amusing Ourselves to Death

The other day Bert and I were discussing the fact, that despite our high hopes, Hy is following the typical path of his male predecessors (Namely: Bert, Justin, Cache, Calder, and Paladin). In other words, he's not quite as advanced as some others his age. And while I have no doubt that one day he will catch up just as the others did, our dreams of a child prodigy have once and for all been squashed. With the others, the blame fell squarely on me. I hate Sesame Street or anything resembling it. I found teaching numbers and letters boring. And colors? Well, they were bound to learn them one day, with or without me, so why bother? But, since I was unexpectedly given one last chance, I determined to get it right. What I forgot to figure into the equation was sabotage. At every turn my efforts are being thwarted and overturned; and it's all for the sake of a laugh.

Whenever we come across this jolly fellow, Hy has been taught to give a deep, feral growl. I cuff the nearest mouth with any hint of a laugh coming out of it, and then patiently explain to Hydn, "No, Santa says 'Ho-Ho-Ho!' " He gives me a confused look and then tries to repeat with a "growl-growl-growl." It's useless. And I'm sure this will mean no cute picture of an adoring two year old on Santa's lap.

Yesterday I foolishly left Hydn in the above mentioned saboteurs hands for the day. When I returned they had taught him a new 'trick'. I gave him his food and said, "Now what do you say?" He smiled, because you see he knew this one, and then... he spit. And although he's fairly talented at hacking a loogie, this just isn't acceptable. Now nobody, and I do mean nobody- be they friend or foe- can say the word "Thank You" without this coming out of his mouth. (Please ignore the car symbol - or insert a picture of yourself instead)

This is no longer "drink please." It's, "gulp - gulp - gulp."

"Tickle-Tickle-Tickle!"

And so on, and so forth..

I tried sending him to his room when he was naughty.
Like say, for spitting..
to counteract their influence.
But then the kids decided it was time to teach him to
sneak out the door in my room, walk around to the glass door,
press his nose against the window, clasp his hands, and say
"pweeeeaaaassse?"

It didn't work. It couldn't work. I was the MOTHER. And even against the whole darn lot of them, I would WIN!

But the next day, when he added a bended knee to his beggars stance,it threw me over.

Maybe he's a progeny after all. A progeny pawn in a giant chess game.

It's that time again

Sometimes

feeding

seems

to

take

forever

School

I thought maybe some of the body lessons were going over Pal's head. But I heard him playing by himself yesterday. His conversation went something like this, "Hurry, come help doctor! We can't save him. He's bleeding to death! We've tried gluing it. We've tried stapling it. We've tried tying it. And we've tried duct taping it. NOTHING'S WORKING AND HE'S DYING!!" The doctor saunters over and says, "Did you try sending more blood to the wound and telling it to clot?" "Oh doctor, you're a genius!"

With that success we moved on to the Nervous System.
Our dissecting skills are a little crude, but the sheep doesn't even know his brain is missing, let alone that they hacked it to pieces.