A Sneak Peek

Verb: “I don’t want to wear mine raincoat! I want to take off mine shirt!”

Me: “Yes, you do, and no, you don’t.”

Interrogator: “I’m not going to eat breakfast right now. I’m going to play.”

Me: “Yes, you are, and no, you’re not.”

Kenyan: “My legs hurt. And I don’t like my haircut.”

Me: “No they don’t, and yes, you do.”

Waldorf: “Everything hurts. I can’t walk.”

Me: “No it doesn’t, and yes, you can.”

All this in a span of 3 minutes. While herding them to the car to drive to school.

We walk to the car. I open the doors. They pile in.

Me, with exaggerated calm: “Verb, get into your car seat. Verb, turn around and sit properly in your car seat. Verb, hand me your Legos or I will turn you around in your car seat. And I won’t do it gently. Verb, that’s 1. Verb, that’s 2. Verb, that’s..”

A split second before I drop the hammer, he turns around, sits properly and smiles.

3 year old boys aren’t any easier the 4th time around.

Verb: “I love you Mommy. Forever and ever. Ahhhh-men.”

This is his newest thing. After he tells me he loves me, he adds “forever and ever. Amen.” And he draws out the Amen. Most recently, he’s been hitting me with this gem when he’s on the toilet.  Right after he requests I wipe him.

It’s not so cute anymore.

I pull out of the driveway. Begin our 14 minute drive to school. I’m lost in thought when the Kenyan interrupts my reverie…

Kenyan: “Mommy, Beauregard’s parents aren’t married.”

Me: “I know.”

Kenyan, eyes wide: “They never were married.”

Me, nodding: “I know.”

Kenyan: “Well, how can they have a baby if they were not married?”

Me: “You don’t have to be married to have a baby.”

Waldorf, resident expert on every topic, chimes in: “Yes, you do.”

Me: “No, you don’t.”

Waldorf: “Yes, you do.”

I’m ignoring Waldorf now.

Kenyan: “I’m never getting married. I don’t want all these kids.”

This is not the first time I’ve heard him say this. In contrast to the Verb’s “forever and ever, Amen”, I find it thoroughly amusing. Every time I hear it. I should probably be insulted, but I’m too amused to be insulted.

Me: “You don’t have to have kids if you’re married.”

Waldorf: “But you do have to be married to have a baby.”

Some days I think he was put on this earth to make my life a living hell challenge me at every turn.

Me: “No, you don’t.”

Kenyan: “How does that work?”

I glance in the mirror. Eight blue eyeballs are trained on me.

I haven’t even had my coffee yet.

Me: “It works in a way that not everyone in this car is ready to hear about. It works in a way that I’m happy to explain to you at home.”

Waldorf: “You do have to be married to have kids.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake…

Me: “You DO NOT. Remember that talk Dad and I had with you about how babies are made?!”

I raise my eyebrows and make what I hope is meaningful eye contact with Waldorf in the rearview mirror. Then I swerve the wheel to compensate for the 6 seconds spent focused on the mirror.

Waldorf, suddenly disgusted, looks away: “Ugh, yes, I don’t really want to talk about that.”

Me: “I don’t either, but that’s what I’m referring to.”

Waldorf: “You mean about the no pants?”

Oh, brilliant.

I raise my eyebrows higher, make even more meaningful eye contact, swerve the wheel again.

Me: “Shhhh. Yes.”

Kenyan: “No pants? What the…”

Interrogator: “No pants? Who has no pants?! That’s inappropriate, Mom!”

Me: “Yes, it’s inappropriate.”

Waldorf: “Dad has no pants sometimes.”


Ever the instigator…

Me: “OK, enough, thank you. That’s good.”

Verb, shrieking with disbelief: “Dad has no pants? Interrogator, YOU had no pants last year! Remember, you go’d pee pee on the potty, then you came outside with no pants?” He kicks his bare feet in sheer joy.

Interrogator, laughing, “I remember, that was fun, wasn’t it, Verb? Except it wasn’t last year, it was yesterday. It was fun and funny. But Mom didn’t like it.”

Me: “I remember that you lost dessert for that stunt, Interrogator. Pants are mandatory outside.”

Waldorf: “But not when making babies.”

Angry Eyes in the rearview mirror.


It promises to be a mind numbing a relaxing 87 Days of Summer

14 thoughts on “A Sneak Peek

    • Glad you enjoyed, Lindsey! Thx for reading…they’ll be in Camp Mom all summer, which begins tomorrow at 11. Expect to read 3 months’ worth of these nuggets.

  1. Just the use of the Verb’s “mine” is enough to make me smile! So much fun! I want to give them all a hug! And, having one little one at home all summer, I can’t imagine multiplying it by four! Must make for some very interesting and fun days! Happy summer, I hope!

    • Maryanne, I hope he uses “mine” in lieu of “my” until he graduates from college. It is just about the only thing toddler about him. That and his temper tantrums, which are far less amusing. Having one at home is sometimes harder than having more than one. Because they can entertain one another…power in numbers. There’s no hiding from one. Good luck to us both!

      Thx for reading!!

  2. Love when everyone leaves for school and I sit for a few minutes to sip my coffee and check FB to find “4godssakeboys shAred a link!”. Hallelujah! Perfect way to begin the morning by laughing out loud! I hope you will still find time to write during the next 87 blissful days of summer! Enjoy the last 2 days of freedom!

    • Em, it’ll be September before you are alone with my blog again! Boo! Yes, I will find time to write. “Mommy’s working, boys.” Will probably go over like a fart in church. Enter the magic of electronics.

  3. “Pants are mandatory outside”
    “But not when making babies”

    I think Waldorf assumes all 4 of them were conceived under the pine tree in the back yard. Probably in broad daylight and in clear view of the neighbors. Sans pants, of course.

    T-89 days til the first day of school. I’d start the countdown now. lol!
    Looking forward to seeing these 4 goofs on the beach in a few weeks!!

    • Waldorf is a fool if he doesn’t realize that he was the only one conceived under that pine tree. The Interrogator did indeed go outside without pants. And without underpants. Out front no less. And he rolled around in the grass. In broad daylight. I only know this because I heard the Verb laughing and saying, “Interrogator, you’re naked! You’re naked outside!” I know what you’re thinking…no, he wasn’t drunk. I know what you’re thinking again…no, he wasn’t copying B&B. B&B does his naked rolling around on the driveway.

      I can’t wait to see what they come up with on the beach.

  4. Bethany, What can I say…damn funny. You know the kind of funny where milk kinda shoots out your nose kind of funny. Only, it was tea. And I should know better than to read your blog with a 5 year old grand daughter next to me who says “Grandma, what is so funny? If it is that funny, why can’t you read it to me…” Well, I just wasn’t ready to explain the whole “no pants thing”. After all, I’m the GRANDma…let’s leave that for the MOM. Ha. Looking forward to so many more adventures of your foursome over the summer.

    • Thanks, Debbie! The original “no pants” conversation was classic. I don’t think I’m allowed to write about it. Waldorf will be in so much therapy if I do. But it was about the birds and the bees. Clearly, he wasn’t paying close attention given his comments during this car ride. Thanks so much for reading!!

  5. Holy Shit! The birds and the bees x4! We have not had any discussions that were that informative. When First Born was 4 and I was preggers with Little One, First Born was obsessed with WHERE the baby will come out? He used to say, with his little speech impediment…. “but Mommy, the baby in you bewwy keeps gettin big-guw. How dat baby gonna come outta you bewwy?”
    I would then tell him that God makes a special opening and the doctor helps mommy get the baby out.
    And he would say, “But WHEURE is da hole it gonna come out?! Do it come out you butt, Mommy, like a poopy?”
    I would respond with, “No, a special opening, do you want a cookie?” which would give me time to frantically search online and every parenting book I had to figure out the proper way to tell a 4 year old how a baby was born.
    Good luck with the summer! Can’t wait to read more! Hope to see you down the shore!

    • OMG, MommaO! I use the exact same term, “special opening”!! That is so hilarious! And here I thought I was the first mother ever to think of that 4-year-old friendly term for “birth canal” or “vaginal delivery”. Kudos to us! 😉

      • “Special opening” sounds so mysterious and enticing. It puts such a positive spin on the most painful physical experience of my existence.

    • I touched base with the school psychologist before we spoke to him. That gave us some confidence. And we had the conversation with him together, so that he doesn’t associate sex with something he can only talk to Dad about. B&B got scientific. Waldorf and I both glazed over. When we woke up, B&B asked us if we had any questions…that’s when the real talk happened. “No pants”.

      The baby talk is CLASSIC! Love their little struggles with r’s! Waldorf asked where the baby came from only with the Verb. I said, “Either my stomach or my vagina”. Then I exited stage left as quickly as my fat ass would carry me, lest he ask me any followup questions.

      Thanks for reading! Woohoo, the shore!!!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *