Fact or Opinion?

This morning Joel had to discern , for his English assignment, between fact and opinion by writing a sentence for each. For fact he wrote, "My family is weird."

I chuckled and said, "Joel, that's an opinion, because it can be argued. Not everyone might agree." He nodded his head confidently. "Oh, yes they would, Mom. Our family IS weird. That's a fact!"

Amish Work Ethic

I decided today was a good day to teach Joel how to clean a bathroom. I started him off easy, just doing the half-bath.

Not even three minutes into cleaning, he moans and says ,"Mom, I'm turning Amish ,working so hard!"

Let Me Be Really Clear

We were driving through western Maryland, Joel in the backseat, Paul and I up front.
Joel was singing and chatting and playing with his new wrist bands, the current fad.

He stopped rather abruptly and said, "Mom, your nose is divine."

I turned around, smiled, and said, "Divine? Thanks." (I've never liked my schnoz.)

"Wait," he said, "what does divine mean?"

"Heavenly," I answered.

"No, no. I meant defined."

"Defined? What do you mean?" I asked, now the curious one.

"Let me be really clear," he said matter-of-factly. "Your nose is long."

Misquoted

I've been getting sicker by the day, and was feeling really lousy yesterday--coughing, fever, achey, sleeping a lot. Joel was home with me, as it was Good Friday. I was wearing mismatched PJ's, hadn't brushed my hair, no make-up, of course, and generally had that "I look like I feel" appearance.

The doorbell rang. I panicked and hoped it was only a FedEx drop.

Joel said, "I'll look out the window and see who it is." It was Bob, our neighbor, and I figured he was reminding us to please pick up his mail and newspaper. No need for a face-to-face encounter with me.

I grabbed Joel's shoulder with one hand and pointed to my clothes and hair with the other. Then I mouthed the words, "Tell him I can't come to the door." Then I hid in the stairwell of the basement, out of sight, but within earshot.

"Hey, Joel, how are you? Is your mom home?"
"Uh, yes, she's home. But she told me to say she looks horrible."

Silladation

"Mom, is 'silladation' a word?" I said, "How do you spell it?" He said, "I don't know. I thought you would." I asked him what it means. "Mom, I don't even know if 'silladation' is a word, so how would I know what it means?"

Hail? no

Today I enjoyed the ride in to school with Joel at 10:30. (Snow delay, so we were chatting about weather.)

His voice was sweet. I love that it's still high, and regret that I can't remember exactly when his older brothers' voices changed. So I tuned in carefully as much to the melody of his voice as to the words he was saying.

Per usuale, football entered the conversation. His segue from weather to football was exquisite for a second grader:

"Mom, I don't like blizzards...or hail. But I like hail Marys! Like when I'm running with the football and yell, "hail Mary!" and the guy in the end zone goes deep and catches it. That's really cool."

Beauty "Defined" by the Young Negotiator

A girl loves to be pampered, but often a pricetag comes with it. Despite my hope that my seven-year-old son, Joel, would agree to just playing with my hair for ten minutes in return for all I do for him, I knew negotiations were about to ensue. The child is a born businessman.

"Hey, Joel, would you like to style my hair?"
"For money?" he asked, bright-eyed.
"No, for pleasure," I said.
"For YOUR pleasure, you mean."
"Yes."
"How about for 20 cents?" he chimed.
"How about for nothing, nothing but love?"
"How about for 2 cents?" he persisted.
"Well...is your 20-cent hairstyle any different from your 2-cent one?"
"No," he admitted. "It just lasts longer."

I caved and signed up for the 20-center.

------
A few minutes later, as he is brushing hair back behind my ears, smoothing it down
with his soft, nimble fingers:
"I'm making it look defined," he said.
"You're making me look divine?" (I pretended to misunderstand.)
"No, I said 'defined.' Simple yet elegant."

Where does he get this stuff?

"Wait! That Wouldn't be Good for Me!"

Sarah started at Towson U today in the education program. The class she had at noon is taught by a professor who tells corny jokes the whole time. Sarah said, "He's worse than you, actually, Mom. Seriously."

Joel piped up, "Mom should just break up with Dad and marry that guy!"

And then he paused, thought about it, and said, "Wait! No, never mind. Don't do that. That wouldn't be good for me!"

I'm a Scientist

Joel was trying over and over to get a cheap plastic Slinky to go down the carpeted steps. After watching his pereseverence mingled with sighs, I said, "Joel, I just don't think that's ever going to work."

He said, "I'm a scientist. I keep going."