Life With a Small Boy

Handsome Boy is one big ball of energy. He makes life here at Chez Wheedleton a lot of fun. With just the smallest of gestures, or words, or both, he can send us all into fits and giggles, whether he means to or not. 


Example #1: The kiddos and I were riding along in the truck, on our way home from piano lessons. We were still about fifteen minutes out, when Lovely Girl asks would I please stop hitting the bumps, because she really needs to, ahem, Use the Facilities. I do my best, but around here, winding roads and bumps go hand-in-hand, and I still hit quite a few. Lovely Girl mock complains, so I start shouting out things like, "Waterfall! Puddles! Rainstorm!" It makes her giggle, and takes her mind off of her little problem. 


And then we hear water sloshing. Actual water. 


Lovely Girl: That isn't funny!
Me (confused): It's not me!


Then we hear giggles coming from the backseat. I look in my rearview mirror to see Handsome Boy - wearing a huge, wicked grin - vigorously shaking his water bottle.


Example #2: Handsome Boy loves words. Specifically, he loves the sound of words. He shouts them out over and over just for the sheer joy of it. Sometimes, he makes them up, complete with definition. Like this one, which he coined this past summer:

B'haircut: what a mostly bald guy gets when he needs a haircut.

And sometimes, he modifies existing words to suit his own particular purposes. Like what he said while digging through the candy bag from when we got "Boo'd" in mid-October:

CA-CHING! In candy form!

Example #3: And then there are Handsome Boy's Wonderings: free-range thoughts he hardly ever keeps to himself, preferring instead to share them with whomever happens to be within listening range. 

Like this one:

Sometimes people are wrong, and sometimes people barf.

Or this one:

If a person was barfing, and then they saw a spider, could they scream while they were barfing?

Example #4: Handsome Boy's worldview is distinctly family-centered, so he is practically beside himself when Chez Wheedleton does things together as a family unit, whether it's as exotic as going on vacation, or as relaxing as just hanging out in the family room to watch a movie. If Chez Wheedleton had a family business, I do believe the boy would be thrilled beyond belief. 

Perhaps that's why he told me one day that Grandma (my mother, who is distinctly unamused with our all-too-gleeful and quite frequent descent into potty humor) should join the Family Business. 

Me: The Family Business?

Handsome Boy: You know. Burping and farting. The Family Business! 

- - -

Yep. Life with a small boy...Our Small Boy. We wouldn't be the same without it. And we wouldn't trade it for the world.

History Repeats Itself, But the Kids are None the Wiser

So. Lovely Girl comes home from school the other day, talking a blue streak before the front door even closes behind her. It's a whole stream-of-consciousness thing, starting with homeroom and moving through the entire rest of her day. In fact, she doesn't appear to be breathing in between sentences. 


She stomps toward the kitchen, shedding her backpack, lunchbag, and coat as she makes her way down the hall, ranting the whole time. The longer she rants, the faster she talks. The faster she talks, the more I begin to think that I am quite possibly witnessing a very impressive stint of circular breathing. 


I am secretly impressed by this spectacle. 


When she finally does takes a breath, it is only to launch into a much louder and more exasperated diatribe, during which I catch the word "boys," and then this: 


Lovely Girl: I mean, they have their own language!"
Me: Who does?
Lovely Girl: This group of boys at school.
Me: Oh. Their own language?
Lovely Girl: Yeah. [rolling her eyes] They made it up. They say things like, "Ex-squeeze me."
Me (snickering): Um, no. They didn't.
Lovely Girl: Um, yes. They did.
Me: I mean, no, they didn't make that up. That's from Wayne's World. Back in the 90's. 
Lovely Girl (cringing): What?


I opened my laptop and pulled up YouTube, and found the Wayne's World Aerosmith episode (classic!), and a few other clips. I watched Lovely Girl as she watched the clips. Her face was equal parts horrified (that her friends were totally copying stuff from her parents' generation...and liked it) and entertained ('cause, you know, Wayne's World is funny).

- - -

So, that was fun, but I figured that was the end of that. Until a day or so later. I'm driving Lovely Girl to school in the morning, when she goes into another rant. About boys. Again. But this time, there's no stream-of-consciousness, no circular breathing, no stomping. Just confusion:


Lovely Girl: They wear these things.
Me: Things?
Lovely Girl: Well, they're not shorts. More like swim trunks.
Me: Swim trunks? In January?
Lovely Girl: Well, yeah. They have these crazy designs and stuff, and they come to, like, their knees, so I guess they're not technically shorts.
Me (in my head): Oh, no.
Me (out loud): JAMS??
Lovely Girl: Jams?
Me (laughing): JAMS! Those are from the 80's, kiddo. And before that, they wore them in the 60's.


Lovely Girl doesn't answer. But a wee bit of horrification begins to creep across her face. Again.

- - -

So. History repeats itself. Sometimes several generations over. I can respect that. But when the new generation claims invention of something a past generation already came up with, well, all I can say is:

"Ex-squeeze me? A baking powder?"