One of my favorite reads, A Cup Of Jo, posed a question on Monday that made me laugh:
“How old are your kids? And how old are they really?”
I laughed because the first thing that popped into my head was my middle child, a six-year-old boy who I fully expect to be sitting in a club chair, smoking a cigar and reading the paper at seven.
He has always been an old soul. Last week, when his older brother mentioned how much he enjoys sleeping in, my middle child responded, “Oh, not me. I like to wake up early, turn on the lights, make mom a cup of coffee and get the day started.” Darn straight, my child! Ha!
My mom handed him a juice the other day, and the child replied, “Meggie, you sure know how to make a man happy.” WHAT?
He’s often disgusted with us all, commenting that something is “not appropriate” or “ridiculous.” He’s savvy and cunning and tests me constantly … Last night, when I said it was time for dinner, he came to the table and asked for his “to go.” I can’t get away with anything around him. I tried to lounge around in my pajamas one day during quarantine, and he remarked, ” Mom, you look beautiful, but you’d look even better in your morning clothes.” Well played, sir.
I live for his quotes.
Are you raising an old soul? What do they do that sets them apart?