Disjointed
See, now I feel like I was being overly dramatic yesterday and today I just have a perfectly regular four-year-old boy who's a picky eater. And in case anyone [wind whistles, crickets chirp, tumbleweeds tumble] was wondering what was up with the extra-cryptic post title, that was because I had a paragraph where I was talking about "the spectrum", but then I deleted it. And forgot that it was the only thing even vaguely tying in the title. Spectrum = rainbow = through a prism: gettit? Ah well.
On to more amusing items.
Mabel has decided that when she's bigger she'll be a boy. She announced this to the man in the supermarket the other day: "When I'm grown up I'll have a penis." This sort of thing is so old-hat to me now that I hardly even blushed. I pretty much stood there to see what she'd say next. Which turned out to be: "My daddy has a penis." The poor supermarket man wisely decided to not quite understand her (though it was clear enough from where I was standing) and before she could repeat herself I hustled her out of the bread aisle back to the cleaning products.
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There's a style of management called Managing By Walking Around. (No, really, there is. It has its own acronym and everything. I didn't spend a year getting a Diploma in Business Studies for nothing, you know. Well, mostly nothing, yes.) On Sunday morning I implemented an innovative parenting technique known as Parenting By Lying Around. (I shall acronym it thus: PBLA.)
Monkey wanted some toast. I wanted to languish on the sofa. Thus, by employing the much-vaunted (now) PBLA method, I taught him to open the freezer, remove a loaf, open the package, take out a slice, move a chair, stand on it, put the bread in the toaster, push down the lever, and wait for it to pop up - all without leaving my supine and cushioned position.
Unfortunately, he still insists on having the crusts cut off, and there I drew the line, so I had to get up. Later, I came downstairs from my shower to find his father had embraced PBLA and had Monkey enthusiastically using a paring knife to cut the crusts off for himself.
Soon we will have a fully self-sufficient son. Or a slightly perforated one.
Labels: conversations, death and sex, eating, just a phase, Parenting

2 Comments:
Disposable cutlery works really well-- kids can cut softish fruit with them at no risk to their hands, so I know it would work well on toast. Buy a small package of those and save and wash them, and you'll be set for while! :)
Since the first line of the previous post was something about you being scattered, I think I vaguely related 'prism' to 'scattered light.'
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