If Children are the Future, I'm not Doing my Part

But first, more from the logophile (or is it lexophile?): scatological. It sounds like a type of philosophy, like epistemological or phenomenological. It sounds like it could be related to pedagogical or tautological. It also sounds like it could be the thought process involved in keeping cats away. Not only do I like the word; I appreciate or employ scatological references or humor any time an opportunity drops. A few more: labyrinth, cadaver, plexus, nexus, lascivious, puerile, hedonistic, Kundalini. At this point I need to mention that if any words have already been listed in prior posts or comments, their repetition is not redundancy but rather a bolstering of their value.

Now on to a peek at my world with the two impressionable minds that suffer with the unfortunate fate of having been entrusted to my careless hands.

A few months ago, Luke was getting ready to play a basketball game. I pulled him aside to give him a few helpful reminders, "keep your head in the game," "watch the ball," etc. I noticed a cut on his lip and asked about it. "Oh, I busted it today." He said. I was tempted to offer him some Chapstick, but I knew he'd refuse it, so I didn't say anything. Then I thought I saw a booger in his nose. After I tipped his head back for inspection, I decided it was clean enough. He was terrified that I might stick my pinkie up there and pick his nose (like I've been doing since he was born) right there in front of his teammates. He said, "C'mon, Mom. It's a basketball game, not picture day."

Last week, in the car, as we raced to wherever we were supposed to be, Katy said, "Mama, I know what sarcasm means." "Oh really? So give me an example," I said. "Like, you're not speeding. That's sarcasm." She has quite a talent for slamming me with her smarts. She can also both kiss up and tattle at the same time. Last Sunday, after the pastor's children's chat, as she was on her way to class, she stepped aside to inform me, "It was rude of those two boys to interrupt him when he was about to say the prayer." What a halo polisher.

After a hectic and harried morning trying to get the kids to dress themselves, eat their breakfast, and brush their teeth and hair within a reasonable time, I gave them yet another lecture as I drove them to the bus stop. I said, "I feel like y'all never listen to me. It's like you don't even hear me." Luke's response: "Katy … did you hear anything just now?" Katy goes, "No … I don't think so. Maybe a little bit of a buzzing sound." Of course, they immediately laughed and told me they were just kidding. What was I supposed to do with that? Yammer at them about how disrespectful they are and thereby discourage their clever creativity? Laugh along and be a fun mom, then break out the can of whoop-ass? I chose a middle ground and explained that sometimes lobbing an insulting joke at an authority figure (no matter how funny it might be), is generally against your best interest. (Advice that might serve me well, too.) Did anything I say register? Probably not, when my voice in their ears sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher.

Back to work now. I'll have another School of Rock installment soon, so stay tuned.