Slow Down, Dude

Yesterday:

A: Mama, will you help me rebuild my rocket?

Me (looking at the pile of books, paper and tape he's amassed): Sure, buddy. You'll have to show me how it goes.

A: OK! And then you can light a match, give it to me, I can say 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1, light the rocket and yell blastoff! And it will zoom up in the air!

Me: Um, yeah. There are a couple of problems with that plan. First, you can't hold a lighted match until you're 8 years old at the earliest, and maybe not even then. Second, if you light this rocket on fire, it will just catch fire and burn. You need fuel and some kind of compressed gas to set off a rocket.

A: OK, you can hold the match, and we can use gasoline for the fuel.

Me: Ai yi yi.

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Today we watched Neighbor Boy shoot hoops.

Neighbor boy: Hey, A., you want to play basketball?

A: Well, Neighbor Boy, there are two problems with that. The first is that I need to use a smaller ball, and the second is that the hoop is too high.

Me: ::::snicker::::::
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Later in the day, Neighbor Girl showed up with a whole ream of paper, probably pilfered from her parent's office, and offered to sell it to A. for a dollar. I was at work and G was in charge. G vetoed the sale, which I don't understand because that sounds like a bargain to me. A. could have resold it for 5 times that amount. And G. says he majored in finance?

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And, in other "A is growing up too fast" news, I present my 4-year-old riding his 2-wheeler without training wheels. It's a big day in the neighborhood.








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I don't know about this kid. When I put him to bed tonight, he didn't want to wear jammies, just underwear. It's warm, fine, whatever.

Now, an hour later, he comes out with sweatpants and his snow jacket on, and tells us he wants to have a Christmas party. Christmas is months away, we tell him.

"I know that!" he insists. "I just want to have one now."

OK, dude, there are going to be times we insist that you conform to society, and the Christmas season doesn't start until August. So go back to bed.