Being a veteran of the sinus infection, I wasn't at all surprised when I heard the doctor's edict Monday afternoon. Probably started out as the flu, but certainly now a full-blown, "holy cow your sinus passages are nearly swollen shut", sinus infection. Today I'm feeling better than I had been although still not great.
Suffice it to say, it's times like this I'm glad for children in my life, because seriously no adult - pro or otherwise - has the comedic abilities of a youngster.
Now granted, sometimes the things our children say are only funny to us and those that know it's in their best interest to amuse us. So, perhaps the things I'm about to share will make you roll your eyes a little. Maybe you'll roll them and then click yourself out of here thinking "Man, she needs to get out more." Should that be the case - you're right. I do. However, that's not going to happen any time soon so humor me.
Books were read, lights were about to go out for the night and the boy decided to tell one of his own stories. "Once upon a time there was a house that talked. . ." it began.
And I, being a pain the butt, could not help but ask questions right away. "Did it have eyes too?" Logan nodded and tried to continue with his story. I, however, was feeling about 10 years old at the moment.
"Don't you think that's a little creepy?" I said.
He stared at me and then slowly, clearly annoyed by the question, said "No." The boy is three; something told me were viewing from different vantage points.
"I mean your house can watch you while you're in it? All the time? That's sort of scary, no?"
"Oh," he said, getting the point. "Well it can't see. It has eyes, but it doesn't have pupils."
Megan had about a 1/4 of her dinner tonight and then announced she was done with a decisive "All done. Down! OUT CHAIR!" Dad was working late. I was running low on energy and patience and the boy was rattling off stories of his day between bites of his meal. I wasn't going to battle her on this. It was her second request. Down she went.
Normally when she's let loose she simply wants out of the high-chair/booster seat and onto a 'real' chair or lap. First it was my lap. Then it was the chair I normally sit in. Then she got a better idea. She smiled. "Brabah," she said, meaning brother.
"Megan Rose, you can't sit in Logan's chair! He's still in it eating." That's her favorite place to be when dinner is over. She climbs up in his seat to steal his cup and feel important.
Logan, however, was happy to be loved. He was delighted to have her over for a visit. He made room for her on his seat. He even held her arm as she wiggled her way up. He asked me for her bowl of untouched Mac and Cheese and her toddler-plastic Dora Spork. He was going to feed her.
She laughed and took a bite. Then she grabbed his 'real' fork and stabbed a piece off of Logan's plate. She held it out to him, making soft airplane noises as she flew it into his mouth. He nearly dropped it back out during his giggle fit.
There they sat - the 3 1/2 year old and the almost 18 month old - feeding each other from their respective plates for nearly half of dinner. Yes, I took photos. I even attempted video with our crappy-battery-won't-hold-a-charge camera. That, folks, is what destroyed the moment. Meg was distracted by the "baby" in the LCD viewer. Happens every time.