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This is the reason I'm never having kids. Arrgh. He's not really that bad, I guess, for a nine year old; he whines alot and throws mini tanturms and is constantly huffing about me not letting him ride his bike (which he is grounded from.) That stuff I can handle. It's the fact that he's so literal that bothers me.
Me: We've got about an hour to kill.
Him: KILL?!?!?!
Me: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Him: What bridge???
That and he keeps trying to pull stuff. Like I was talking to Dad outside and went to go in through the back and not the front, and I caught him sneaking out to ride his bike. Ha. Gotcha.
He's also obsessed with time. "How many minutes to your house? How many minutes to the store?"
"What time is it?"
"Eight thirty."
"No, it's not! It's EIGHT TWENTY NINE!!!"
But he's at school now, so the hard part is over with.
We watched bugs bunny last night. He wanted microwave popcorn, so I made it, for the first time in my life. While I was watching the bag blow up, all I was thinking was, "Courtney used to eat the butter off the sides of the bag." I wound up burning it, and all this smoke was coming out, so I stood on the back porch like an idiot, because I didn't know what to do with it. I wound up throwing it out after dousing it in water a couple of times. Pssh. Who said microwaves were better than poppers, anyway?
Me: We've got about an hour to kill.
Him: KILL?!?!?!
Me: We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Him: What bridge???
That and he keeps trying to pull stuff. Like I was talking to Dad outside and went to go in through the back and not the front, and I caught him sneaking out to ride his bike. Ha. Gotcha.
He's also obsessed with time. "How many minutes to your house? How many minutes to the store?"
"What time is it?"
"Eight thirty."
"No, it's not! It's EIGHT TWENTY NINE!!!"
But he's at school now, so the hard part is over with.
We watched bugs bunny last night. He wanted microwave popcorn, so I made it, for the first time in my life. While I was watching the bag blow up, all I was thinking was, "Courtney used to eat the butter off the sides of the bag." I wound up burning it, and all this smoke was coming out, so I stood on the back porch like an idiot, because I didn't know what to do with it. I wound up throwing it out after dousing it in water a couple of times. Pssh. Who said microwaves were better than poppers, anyway?
