|There is something wrong with you|
|Friday, February 01, 2013 2:19 PM|
There comes a time in every parent’s life when you look at that beautiful child, the child that you would do anything for, the child whose life you treasure above your own, and you realize, “there is definitely something wrong with that kid.” You know the moment. For me, it was when my son decided it would be a good idea to ride the laundry basket down the stairs. To top it off, my staircase isn’t even straight. Apparently, he thought he could ride it around the curve like a bobsled.
Sadly for my son, he lives in the real world and not a cartoon. I heard the bang when he hit the railing and then the thumping of a big goofball rolling down the stairs. I found him at the bottom of the stairs looking surprised but unhurt, as he seemed amazed that his brilliant plan hadn’t worked.
He immediately told me, “don’t worry, I’m alright,” to which I can only shake my head and think “there is definitely something wrong with you.”
This is also the kid who didn’t want to learn how to use the brakes on his bike because he preferred to crash into the curb and hurl himself over the handlebars like a stuntman. There was also the moment when my then 4-year-old son couldn’t get his shoes on and proceeded to have a temper tantrum because he didn’t want to have toes anymore — seriously. It is a surreal moment when you watch your preschooler demanding that you remove all his toes.
Of course, he is now 13 years old (still has all his body parts), and I use that story whenever he is complaining that I never let him do anything. I, of course, have the trump card: “If I let you do whatever you wanted to do, you wouldn’t have any toes!” I think this should settle any argument, but sadly he doesn’t remember this story so he just thinks I’m crazy.
It is comforting to know that I am not the only one with stories to tell, I have a friend who has a 3-year-old who won’t let her throw away bubble gum wrappers. She collects them because they are her best friends. She also names and becomes friends with every stick she finds outside, which leaves my friend’s house filled with wrappers, sticks, and various other “best friends” that her daughter has found.
Of course, her stories are about a cute little girl who is in love with everything, while my stories are about a boy who is in search of the world’s largest rubber band so he can launch himself from a giant slingshot (I am not kidding).
I don’t know if this is a boy/girl thing, I hope so, either way I think ultimately you just have to see the humor in their actions. If not, in the moment, then in retrospect.
Yes, there is something wrong with your kids — and mine — and that’s okay. That’s part of what we love about them. They make your life funny, enjoyable and always, always interesting.