Will You Be My Kid?

We (Joel--4, Sarah--17. and I--older than them) pulled into the parking lot of a local playground this morning around 10:45. Several moms from our church meet every couple of weeks to hang out and fellowship while the kids play. Roughly the time is 9:30-11:30.

Today was especially hot and humid. When we pulled in, we saw several friends leaving. I said to Joel, "Do you want to stay? Looks like there aren't any little kids here to play with."

Joel: "Yeh, I wanna stay. Sarah, will you be my kid?"

Sarah: "You can be MY kid."

Me: Sarah, he means you can be his kid to play with.

Sarah: Oh, yeh, Joel, I'll be your kid.

Joel: Yay! I get a big kid to play with!

Pankins and Pinchins

Ever just want to pretend you're not your child's parent for a little while? Times you could just be a bystander saying, "Somebody DO something to that kid, he's out of control!"?

Thursday was such a day. Not only had I gotten a bad night's sleep, I chose to spend some of my otherwise-cleaning-for-guests time in order to get Zurich guest passes to the Aquarium from my husband to our Israeli visitors. (This involved 4 vehicles , 3 counties, 2 extra hours and a partridge in a pear tree. ) We spent noontime trying to find each other in Baltimore County. Ben and Sarah were at work, Stephen was with my parents, and I alone had Joel. Not usually a hard thing, but this day was not usual.

We met Paul at Burger King in Towson and had a nice, quick lunch. I love lunch dates (or any dates) with my husband. Anyway, after he left, Joel played a little while in the BK "arcade" . No problem. Until it was time to go. There are 4 Nintendo stations in the semi-enclosed area, all like spokes around a hub. Embarrassing as it was, I sort of chased Joel around the circle, saying, "Come. Here. Right. Now." He. Didn't. Uh. Oh.

Pankin' in the van of the BK parking lot. Then....

I needed groceries badly. AFter all, our Israeli friends were coming for dinner after they went to Inner Harbor. So at 3 in the afternoon (when I'd rather be snoozing) I was at Aldi's with Joel. He pulled the "I don't hear you" body language on several occasions. He hid behind displays of tuna. He tossed things into the cart when I wasn't looking. Things not on my list of course. I spoke in tones that I thought meant business without abuse. I had to promise him a spanking in the van a couple of times.

At the register, he got out of line and crawled up on the bagging counter. Then he walked on it, up and down the 14 foot length of it. I'm telling him to get down (in staccato). He refused, I was praying mightily for self-control. I finally got out of line and bodily took him off the bagging counter and warned him sternly to hold on to the cart with both hands, and remind him that he just earned another (now three) spankings. Soon after, he chose to let go and run to the ceiling-high canvas fort at the far end of the last register. The bright blue fort has a rock-wall type side on it. He scampered up it like an Olympic athlete with shorts on fire. Once again I got out of line and marched over to remove my gazelle from the summit of the mountain (by the ankle). How good we must have looked. How composed.
Meanwhile I notice the lady behind me has only four items. My bill comes to $144.60. I am tempted to pay for her groceries as a consolation prize. I am tempted to pay the cashier overtime also. But I can't muster the courage to make eye contact with either of them and my face feels as hot and red as a summer tomato.

I finally got to the bagging counter with my stuff and told Joel to hold the bags while I loaded groceries into them. That lasted all of one bag, and then he started to dash away. I flung my arms around him, crouched down to his eye level, and pinched the back of his bare thigh.

He screamed, burst into tears and wailed, "You shoulda 'panked me, not pinched me. Pankins are better than pinchins!"

Well, guess what? In the van I gave him also the three pankins he earned in the first three aisles. I told him that Jesus died for his rebellion and disobedience. I prayed with him for power to obey, for strength to stay where he was told (when he would rather run away), for self-control when it's time to leave fun places. Ah, couldn't he as easily have prayed the same for his mom?!

History Buff

Last night Joel was perusing the books on our dining room bookshelves. Housing mostly non-kid, nonfiction books, this bookcase contains such titles as Asian Kitchen, Helpful Hints for the Handyman, Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ, and How to Photograph Your Pet.

Occasionally a few homeschool books from the "curriculum" show up there.

I was engrossed in a craft project and wasn't paying attention to 4-year-old Joel as he searched our home library.

Suddenly he exclaimed with the excitement of one who has just found the last pair of clean underwear in a basket of unfolded clothes, "This is it! This is the one! This is absoLUTEly the book I've been looking for!"

He now had my attention. I turned toward my little towhead.

"Show me, honey. What book is absoLUTEly the one you've been looking for?"

He stretched out a mustard colored paperback with black letters.

"Up from Slavery?" I asked. "By Booker T. Washington?"

"Yes!" he raved. "This is it!"

Zink

The other night Joel barged into the room roaring like a lion and making clawing motions in the air. I feigned fear.

"Did I 'care you?" he asked, hopeful.

"Yeh, you kinda did. What are you, a lion?"

"No, I'm Zink."

"Zink?" I asked, puzzled. "Who is Zink?"

"You know! Like Monster Zink?"

I chuckled. "Oh, yeh, Monsters Inc!"

Solomon's Impact

Last night I was cutting Joel's hair before leaving for the fireworks show. He was standing on a chair, eye level with me. Sarah had just come into the room and was standing behind him.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "I LOVE you!" he exclaimed happily.

"I love you, too, honey," Snip, snip.

"Can I hug you, Mama?"

"Of course you can hug me!" I said, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. As he let go of me slowly, his hands slid along the sides of my bosom. He looked down and said, "You have BEAUTIFUL breasts!"

Sarah and I burst out laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth. My mouth was on my ankles.

"Where's he GET this stuff?" I asked Paul later when telling him the story.

Remembering I occasionally read aloud to Joel whatever passage I'm journaling in the morning, Paul replied, "You been readin' Song of Solomon to him again?"

Joel and the Telemarketer

This afternoon Ben was in Virginia with friends. Sarah was helping Beth unpack after their move. I was napping, and Paul was laying out on the deck catching some rays. Joel and Stephen were in the basement playing video games when the phone rang.

Joel answered and had the speaker phone on.Stephen could hear everything.

"Hello?" said Joel.
"Hi, this is Verizon. Is your daddy there?"
"No. He's tanning." (Stephen chuckles.)
"Oh, is your mommy home?"
"Yeh, but she's sleeping." (Stephen is guffawing.)
"Oh, okay. Is there anyone over the age of 18 there an authorized decision-maker?"
"There were a lot of them here at the graduation party."
"Is there someone there now?"
'Yeh, Stephen is. But he's laughing. Like this: HUH-HUH-HUH."
"Okay. I'll call back later."