Who's the grown-up here?
As I have documented very well on this blog, my son, The President was born a 40 year old man. He relates very well to adults, and understands the subtle humor of sarcasm. He wants to be the president, and he is one cool kiddo. The other day he saw his latest wish fulfilled, and we had his hair highlighted. Soooo very stylin', the envy of all the other 6-year-olds. Just like his mama, he has a sassy little attitude, and his recent wardrobe reflects that. He has t-shirts that say things like "Your lips are moving, but all I hear is blah blah blah!" and "I'm the Boss of Me!" When I brought that one home, he emphatically informed me that the other kids were going to be "pissed out" because they'd be so jealous of his new threads.
Yes, my six year old said, "pissed..." and no, I didn't make a big deal out of it. We are who we are, ya know? He is just as likely to sweetly tell you how Jesus lives in his heart. We are open-minded Christians, who don't take life and ourselves too seriously. So, that's kind of my disclaimer. I don't want to offend anyone, but I'll tell you we don't sweat the small stuff around here.
The President will take any opportunity to get a chuckle out of the grown-ups...Like the other night when I said some minor league "bad word" & My Baby's Daddy was giving me a hard time about it.
All sarcastic like, he asks our son, "Why don't you say that to your teacher tomorrow & see if she thinks it's appropriate for you to hear that kind of language?"
Never missing a beat, the Pres says, "Mama acts appropriate at my school, but at home she's like, "Daaaaaaammmn...shut up!" (He mimics me in his best sassy country twang...we all have accents, but around here we are definitely among the least-twangy by far--he did it for comedic effect!)
Fast forward to last night...my boys are in the car with me, and riding shotgun is the worst case of PMS imaginable. I had an utterly frustrating cell phone conversation with My Baby's Daddy which culminated in my behaving like a raving, hormonal lunatic. When I hung up the phone, The President informed me that I had said "three bad words and two almost-bad words...but I'm going to let it slide this time because you didn't use any self-control!"
Stop the press--I've just been given a Presidential pardon!!!