Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Hey, man, you told her to

Brian arrived in town last night. Jacelyn and I were sitting on the sofa waiting for him to arrive. He sat down and she was showing him the booty she received from the girl scouts for her cookie sales. Among said booty was a fold up brush-mirror combination thingy. She said she was going to brush his hair and promptly climbed up on the back of the sofa and sat behind his head.

After a few moments Brian looked up and noted out loud: "You have a big booger in your nose, you need to blow it". Jacelyn immediately did what she was told and exhaled strongly through her nose, causing two streams of snot to rocket out of her nostrils and rain down upon Brian's head. I did what any mature mother would do: I laughed, very very hard. Like, stomach clutching hard, like almost peeing on myself hard. Jacelyn sat on the sofa, grinning, two shiny rivulets of snot shimmering on her upper lip. Brian was sitting on the sofa with his hands held up in such a way that you could tell he wanted to touch his snot-encrusted head, but then he didn't dare. I was still laughing.

Eventually, after ordering Jacelyn to go wipe her face, he laughed, too. Even after we laid down for the night I still found myself chuckling. "You wouldn't be laughing if your head was all snotty" Brian remarked. Wouldn't I? I was still caught up in the legalities of it all: "You told her to blow her nose, so she blew her nose". There was no mention of tissue. Common sense would dictate using a tissue, but hey. She's five, and snot is funny when you're five. Heck, I'm almost thirty, and I was terribly amused. See, I would have specified the need for tissue. Maybe I'm just around her more and know her a little better, but a tissue would have been the first thing I said: "Jacelyn, go get a tissue and blow your nose". I know my child, and she needs direction. She does not work well unsupervised. She needs specifics, otherwise you never know what might happen. Hey, wait a minute, I could be talking about myself. Hmmm.

Hey, what if people talked about their babies the way recording artists talked about their albums? I want a t-shirt that says, "Yo, my baby drops 1/26/08". That would be AWESOME.

That's all for now, and was probably more than enough. Later!

1 comment:

TX Jen said...

Gotta love 5-year olds! Our resident going-on-5-year-old (Kendra) was sitting on my mom's lap this weekend. She pulled out the collar of mom's shirt, looked down it and proudly proclaimed...

"MeeMaw, I see your boobies!"

Snot and boobies. Children are great, eh?