New Word from School

Well, Dalton has brought home his first new "dirty" word from school - crap nuggets. We have asked him repeatedly to stop. Walking into church tonight, he used it again and I told him that he would lose video games if he said it again. His very sincere response was, "Well, if I forget and say crap nuggets, you just have to remind me not to say it again." As he walked on ahead of us towards the building, he could be heard saying, "OK. Don't say crap nuggets. Don't say crap nuggets. Don't say crap nuggets." We had to keep our distance so he didn't hear us giggle.

Something tells me that this isn't the worst thing he's ever gonna learn from his friends at school.

What is the mutation that occurs in our genes when a sibling is born? That has to be the only explanation for why perfectly angelic children turn into little demons if it will cause their own flesh and blood any amount of anxiety or pain. Doesn't matter if they are the younger or older child. Seems like their motto is "If it will make him/her cry, let's do it!"

I guess the bigger question is, why do they actually think it is logical to come to a parent to resolve when they have tormented each other to extreme.

Maggie Anne discovered the camera on my phone where she could see herself on the screen.

I thought this shot was cute.

Good Boy

Boyd got a good story from Dalton's after-school director yesterday. Evidently a police officer had come to visit and teach the kids about strangers. Dalton was chosen for an example and the officer came to the door and told Dalton he had a load of pizzas he needed to deliver to him. When asked what he should do, Dalton promptly slammed the door in the officer's face. His teacher said it was hilarious and the grown-ups couldn't hold it together.

I didn't ask why the door got opened in the first place because I wasn't there for the exercise, but it did cross my mind.

Dalton came to sit with me at the table this morning when he woke up. I asked him how he was feeling today and he said fine except that he was allergic to all the lights that were on. He'd feel much better if I would turn some of them off.

Dalton snuggled up next to me the other night and was especially quiet. After a few minutes of quality snuggling, he looked up at me and asked, "What are they going to put in your throat so they can get Jessie Anne out?" The conversation that followed gave me an entirely new appreciation for C-sections. Funny thing is, he was mortified that I said it was better to get a shot in my back than to feel the cut on my belly.