My son may very well end up in politics. He’s getting the lingo down pat and could charm the coat off of an Eskimo in a snow storm
This morning he was all eager to head out the door to get some wood salvaged from an old barn. (This child *always* has a need for more building supplies.)
But I stopped him as he was ready to sashay out the door. “Did you brush your teeth?”
He smiled a dingy smile and said, “yes.”
I have him my squinty-eyed-mama-knows-all look and said, “Lemme see ‘em!”
He grinned more broadly and slapped himself up the head, “Oh! I think I was having a false memory!” He spun around and bee-lined into the bathroom.
After brushing his teeth, he appeared back in the kitchen…following me around, I might add….with the BANJO.
“Listen Mom! I got the theme song to ‘Sponge Bob’ figured out!” He began plucking it out, competing with the classical sounds from NPR creating what surely could be background music for a psycho movie. (The part where the axe murderer is ready to slash his way through the shower curtain to the unsuspecting woman.)
And as I sit here and recall my crazy morning so far I can’t help but wonder if one day I will go psycho. But then again, maybe this is all a false memory.