Mom, look what I can do!

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Joe called me into his room after I’d put him to bed last night, asking for a drink of water.

DSCN8754Classic stall technique.

He also held up his finger and said, “Get rid of it.”

As it was dark, I fumbled to find the end of his finger, where, what I thought was a broken fingernail, was hanging off. I easily removed it and tried to throw it in the trash, but as it took several tries to scrape the sticky substance off my own finger, I asked,

“Is this a booger? From your nose?”

Though I couldn’t see his beaming face, I could hear it in his voice.

“I got it myself!”

The last time I removed a booger from his nose, I had to wrestle him into the corner of the couch and use the jaws of life to pry his hands away from his face. (How is a two-year-old so strong?!)

So I said, “That’s good I guess.”

As I left his room, thinking maybe I won’t have to struggle to evacuate his nostrils again, it occurred to me that I had effectively taught my son to pick his nose.

Yep. *I* did that.

Sigh.

 

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On grocery clerks and birthdays

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Have any of you made friends with the staff at your local grocery store? (If you have, tell me in the comments. I’d love to hear about it.) The meat guy at one place always says hi and makes small talk. One of the check-stand ladies in the same store calls me “girlfriend” or “little momma.”

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Remember this guy? Exhibit A: Boy

Another lady, when I was pregnant with Joe, said that she was telling her daughter, “You know the lady with three girls, two are redheads? She’s having a BOY!” Not only are we chummy, she talks about me to her daughter—wild.

Then, of course, there’s the CM Guy, who can’t seem to be rid of me. On my last visit to his store, there were two lanes open—neither manned by him. But, since both lines were backed up, the checker in my lane picked up her phone and called, “Check stand help,” or something.

A minute later, scurry scurry—because that is the only word that accurately describes the CM Guy’s speedy and purposeful walk. The man takes his job seriously.

So he scurries past the bagging side of the check stands, lifts and arm to point, and says, “I can take the next customer over here.”

Since I, as fate would have it, was the next customer, I moved over, saying, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“For you, yes. At least, that’s what I’ll say to your face.” Read the rest of this entry

“You again.”

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“You again,” the Chex Mix Guy said with a smile. “Is there a sale on I don’t know about?” (If you missed it, you can read the first installment of the Chex Mix Guy saga here.)

I gestured toward my few non-Chex Mix items displayed on the conveyor belt before him. “You’d know it if there were.” He’d already scanned my, ahem, two cartons of ice cream.

chexmix“What you got last time should last you a few months.”

“I don’t know about months,” I said. “Maybe weeks.”

He nodded his agreement.

“Did you read the latest post about you?”

“Yes, but what about from the last time you were here?” he said.

“I was going to, but I thought people might be getting tired of these stories.”

“There should be a post every time you come,” he said.

So, in compliance with my enabler supplier, that’s what happened yesterday. The time before that, when I arrived at the store on the appointed day–the day highlighted and circled several times on my calendar–the day, you guessed, that my special shipment of Rain Check Cheddar Chex Mix was due to arrive, I first headed to the produce section to pick up some plums. (See, I can buy healthy stuff too.)

Someone scurried past me. I turned to look. Read the rest of this entry

Wrong answer

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I like to share our toddler’s accomplishments with my husband when he gets home from work. Sometimes I do so with audience participation.

Me: Hey, Joe-Joe, who went poop on the potty today?

Son: Joe-Joe!

Me: That’s right! And then who peed on the rug and Momma’s foot?

Son: Momma!

Apparently we need to rehearse before putting on the show for Daddy.

jiFfM

 

 

The toddler and the baby

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Little Joe was so sweetly and lovingly holding a baby doll, hugging and kissing it, I thought, “Awh, he’ll make a good dad some day, or perhaps big brother.”

Then he banged the doll’s head on the ground and yelled, “Ow!” Not once or twice, but three times.

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Nice, baby. Niiiice. A few seconds before “Wham! Wham!”

Boys.

 

The saga continues

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I’m talking about, you guessed it, Chex Mix.

The sale was even better this week: 88c instead of the usual 99. (Girlfriend loves a bargain.) So I trotted my way to the appropriate aisle, and lo and behold–empty, as in, M-T. Not even a straggler hiding at the back of the shelf. You know I checked.

I bought my other items and headed for the check out line. As fate would have it, the only non-express lane was manned by none other than The CM Guy.

“I’d like to lodge a complaint with the manager,” Read the rest of this entry

Kids grow up so fast.

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pizza

One day my son is two. The next day he eats cold pizza for breakfast, so apparently he’s now in college. [My husband was on breakfast duty that day.]

My husband was googling what to do when your paint cans won’t close securely, so I asked him, “How did we find things out before Google?” He said, “We talked to people. This is much better.” Read the rest of this entry