Rowdy Rebel: “Mom, you cannot EVER marry a mummy.”

Me: “Okay. I won’t.”

Rowdy Rebel: “Because they are DEAD. Also, if you could marry a mummy, you should not do it. Because you can’t ever KISS it.”

Deep Thinker: “Yeah.”

Me: “Eeeeeee…That’s true.”

Deep Thinker: “Also, you can’t have children with it.”

In conclusion, I felt this was very sound advice, so I plan on following these tips closely.

Rowdy Rebel was telling me about school and how much he likes his friends. (All of his friends are very rowdy, just like he is, of course.) His teacher at school is very warm and patient. I like her a lot. She’s very beautiful as well–this isn’t important but does kind of factor into this story, as you will see momentarily.

So I ask from time to time how things are going with the teachers. I asked Rowdy Rebe about his pre-school teacher, “So, how’s your teacher? Does she seem happy with your work lately?”

Rowdy Rebel says, “Oh yes. She’s VERY nice.” I thought, well, this means Rowdy Rebel must be doing well–still being good in class. Thank goodness.

Then he stops, turns around and looks me in the eye to add: “BUT, she has a mustache.” Okey dokey.

One happened last year. A girl accidentally made him bump into a door, and this gave him a huge black eye. Then, she developed a crush on him. She’s very cute (in my opinion), but as he puts it “bossy and mean.” This year, they’ve kind of become friends. So that’s nice.

This year another girl–we’ll call her Ann–has apparently told her friends that she loves Deep Thinker. He tells me in horror “THE WHOLE SECOND GRADE knows about it! It’s very embarrassing!” as he makes a horrified face. Poor thing.

I was trying to make him feel better. I said, “Honey, but Ann is so adorable.”

His response: “Don’t be fooled Mom. She’s NOT as nice as she looks.”

But of course, his best friend is the “wild kid” who is not only wild, but seems quite mean. Rowdy Rebel and this child LOVE each other. They want playdates together, they share snacks, they throw sand at each other…

I’m encouraging Rowdy Rebel to have a larger group of friends. Last week, I paid close attention to the children in his class who were playing nicely, quietly, and respectfully. I was trying to figure out their names to then encourage Rowdy Rebel to try playing with them more often.

I asked, “Who was the boy in the blue shirt with Lightning McQueen? (Lightning McQueen is the red car from the movie “Cars”–and Rowdy Rebel’s HERO.) Rowdy Rebel answered, “Maybe that was Chris.”

I followed up, “Yes, this was probably Chris. Let’s double check. What does Chris look like?”

Rowdy Rebel answered, “Well…He has a nose…eyes…and hair.”

I burst out laughing. For a second Rowdy Rebel looked puzzled. Then it must have clicked, and he said “OOOOOOhhhhh, everybody does, right Mommy?”

Yesterday a good friend gave us two bags of clothes her son outgrew. Rowdy Rebel is only 4 (almost) so thinks second-hand clothing is COOL since it was worn by BIG boys before he got it.

SO, Rowdy had a fun time pulling ALL of the clothes out of the 2 huge bags, surveying all of the superhero logos, colors, and so on. I went into his room and said, “Man, this is messy. We need to put these clothes back in the bags until I organize the clothes in your drawers.”

Rowdy Rebel made big, buggy eyes at me and said, “MOM, I’m just putting them in a pile like YOU DO.” (He was referring to the pile of clean laundry that gets dumped into my floor each week and which I haven’t had time to fold for one month.) Thanks Rowdy, I see what you mean.

My son raised his hand, and the teacher called on him. He said “Fifty cents.” Then she said, “Yes, and how do we get that answer?”

My son’s response: “My mommy and daddy told me.” Then the teacher continued, “Well, yes, but how do we know how much it is?”

My son explained, “I know because my mommy and daddy tell me about important stuff like money and lots of other things.”

AWWWW.

A few hours later after lunch, they started playing again. My son explained, “I looked for that playground supervisor, and she wasn’t there. So, I played chop chop. If another teacher didn’t like it, I knew she would just give me a warning. If one of them warned me, I would stop. But no one did, so I played chop chop.” Of course his eyes were opened widely as he explained this.

This was soooo “him.” Rules are so important to him.

He told me that he didn’t play with his friends at school last week because they played tag, but tag isn’t allowed.

So I asked, “Are you sure? Maybe it’s okay as long as you don’t hit too hard when you tag another player??”

He said, “I guess you need to read the RULES again. Remember MOM, the ones you SIGNED at the beginning of the year?!” Hm. Guess he told me.

I said, “I wish I knew! But you asked the wrong girl…I’m just not sure how to make paint.”

He responded, “Oh, no, I think I asked the right girl. You used to be a teacher didn’t you?”

Of course, ALL teachers know how to make paint. How silly of me to forget.

We learned that newly hatched bald eagles attach to the first moving thing they see as their mother, even if it is an animal other than an eagle, or even a human.

For a few months, he stopped talking about eagles. Then yesterday, he suddenly started lecturing me about not being near bald eagles when they hatch–apparently the first thing a baby bald eagle spots moving is taken to be the parent, and the baby birds attaches to it. My son said, “DON’T MOVE if you’re near a bald eagle when it hatches out of its egg!!! The baby bird will think you are its MOM.”

He vowed, “Mom, if I’m ever near a bald eagle when it hatches, I’m gonna FREEZE. What if the eagle saw me and thought I was its parent? I’m not ready to be a DAD. I’m just a KID!“