I kept Monkey home from school yesterday because they were having one of their fantastic hippie field trips where they spend the entire day in the woods connecting to nature
These field trips are great, but even when Monkey’s doing okay, we have determined that I need to go with him as he pretty much requires one-on-one support for them, because if he decides to melt down in the middle of the wilderness that’s kind of a pickle for the teachers there who are dealing with other kids, too.
And right now, Monkey is maybe coming down with a cold. Maybe! I mean, who knows? How would we know? He looks a little “off,” but he’s also the kid who never knows when he’s sick, he just starts being a jerk and we’re left to puzzle it together. So. I dunno, but the day BEFORE yesterday was kind of a disaster, so I kept him home, and he was MAD.
The entire morning was spent on something of an endless, repetitive loop of:
“But I really wanted to go.”
“I know, honey, I’m sorry.”
“There’s still time! We could still go!”
“Nope, I’m sorry, we can’t. I have to work and you’re not feeling well and the decision has been made.”
“I FEEL FINE!”
“Yes, I can see that, the way you’re shrieking at me right now.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mom! Can we go now?”
“Buddy, I know you’re disappointed. There will be other trips.”
“But I really wanted to go.” (Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Yank out hair.)
Once we got over that, he was convinced to do some work and rest a bit. But after lunch he wanted to show me everything he did on Minecraft and that somehow segued into wanting to recount for me every episode of every cartoon or Mad he’d watched recently, in painstaking detail, which finally put me into Social Skills Mode:
“Monkey, the thing is, I don’t watch those shows because they’re not particularly interesting to me. I know they are terribly interesting to YOU, and that’s great, but for me to sit through a play-by-play of the parts you love isn’t very relevant for me. Do you understand?”
He nodded. Then countered: “But it’s REALLY REALLY FUNNY! Everyone finds it funny! If you would just let me TELL YOU I know you would find it funny.”
I sighed. “Monkey, you’ve told me dozens of these stories and I never find them funny, because you and I have different taste in television. You think farting and people being blown up is hilarious. I really don’t.”
“You SHOULD,” he pointed out. (See, I could solve this whole problem if only I was more obedient!)
“That’s a matter of opinion, Baby.”
“How about I just tell you this ONE PART?” He was so hopeful.
“No, thank you.”
“But if you don’t think it’s funny I’ll stop!”
This had promise. “Really? If I don’t think it’s funny you’ll stop if I ask you to?”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Okay, there was this guy—”
“Stop! Not amused. Thank you, though.”
“That worked out well. For me.”
Then he stomped away, for some reason.
Later on I knocked off work early and we made cookies together. He dumped flour everywhere and pestered me about licking the mixer paddle from the very first moment we turned the mixer on (Me: Go ahead, stick your tongue in there!), but we had a good time.
Last night we went out to dinner (welcome to Advent, the season of Holy Crap Is It Dinnertime Already? And also The Fridge Is Empty) and Otto and I sat discussing Grown Up Things and during a lull in the conversation, Monkey piped up with his latest idea for a story that includes—naturally—both farting AND explosions, so first we did the whole, “Did you notice we’re having a conversation here? One that doesn’t have anything to do with what you’re talking about?” thing, but then we just gave up and let him talk. Eventually we DID start laughing, mostly because he was just so gosh-darned amusing to himself, and then he crowed that SEE HE IS TOO FUNNY and we laughed even harder.
We went home and I let him eat cookies. Not a bad day, all in all.