To Hell with the Tattle Tale Angel
My sons are decorating their own little tree in their bedroom. There are the usual battles. Kaelan wants to put decorations all over. Reece wants them in organized rows of all green, then all red. This was solved by a rock-paper-scissors smackdown.
Then Reece has a small, plastic angel he places "oh-so-carefully" on the tree. He says it's his Tattle Tale Angel.
"The Tattle Tale Angel sees everything," Reece explains to his brother. (I'm hoping she doesn't see she wasn't hung up by her string, but stuffed up her bum onto the tree!)
"No she doesn't," disagrees Kaelan.
Aaand now we have two religions converging. Christmas' omniscient Tattle Tale Angel becomes one of the three Graeae who share one eye in Greek Mythology. It's the Christmas Crusade!
"No, she doesn't! People have TWO eyes. That's it... I'm going upstairs."
That's how you bloodlessly win a crusade...and an argument.
My Good Friend Santa
Tuesday Family Dinner Night (or my personal Disaster Night) rolled around again. After dinner I asked Kaelan to go get his jammies on. OH, the HUMANITY!
"No, I'm not going to bed!"
He's storming off, magically transformed from 10-year old boy to teenage drama queen. Stomp-stomp!
I leeeaaan back in my chair, relaxed and call out "That's okay, I'll just e-mail Santa...right now!"
I pick up my iPhone (don't you just friggin LOVE those things?), and tappity tap on it... "Dear Santa, my good friend..." I say. (Since the big guy and I are on SUCH good terms and all.)
Thump-thump-thump-thump! As a little boy comes FLYING up the stairs at the speed of Christmas-panic!
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Go get your jammies on, please."
Game, set, match.
"Wow, you're evil. All I had was the Tattle Tale Angel, it was only good for the living room," says my mom.
"Don't say that," warns my brother. "She'll e-mail Santa."
I Love Echolalia
I've said this before. But, it's true. It's useful AND entertaining.
My biggest boy had a crappy day at school. He had a meltdown due to not understanding a game (frustration, frustration). This led to explosion after explosion. End result was - EWWWW! Consequences! Boy, do you have to HATE those.
BUT, how else do you learn? So, he lost his rubbermaid box of paper zombies until tomorrow. He is VERY angry, so the echolalia and tourettes are SKY HIGH.
Since we have watched the Grinch so many times AND the Grinch is SUCH a happy fellow, this is some of what I'm hearing.
"My heart is two sizes two small."
AND I had visuals! I was torn between feeling badly for him, and being entertained...
"For fifty-three years I've put up with it now!" Which I found VASTLY impressive given that he's 10...
Another one was:
"We have to stop Mr. Feller from coming, but HOW?"
Omg! The inflection and tone is EXACTLY the same as the cartoon! I couldn't help it, I snickered.
He's a mean one... Mr. Feller...
Reece was educating me on popular culture learned on the playground.
"Mom, did you know Michael Jackson is the King of Soda?"