Hanging Out, Telling Lies…

For the last two of weeks, Oliver went to an arts-based camp, which was TERRIFIC in and of itself. The downside was it was just Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 10 AM until noon.

I know.

And on top of it, his sister is going to day camp from 11:30 AM until 3:30 PM.

I know.

But as of today, as he’s off to a full-day camp, I’m realising how nice it was to have him home – how rare the time is that we get to hang out together, just the two of us. It’s quieter without his sister home. The flow is different, and he’s a bigger kid, so wandering around together is easier… no strollers or wipes or sippy cups to pack up and take along. When he wasn’t on his bike, he’d just stroll along side me. Sometimes I’d search for his hand first, but often, I’d feel his hand grab onto mine.

I love that he still wants to hold my hand. (I have to fight with his sibling to get her to hold mine, because she’s two and she’s the devil defiant.)

He’s growing. He’s lost four teeth since summer vacation started (including one last night!) and he bites all foods with the teeth on the sides of his mouth. He’s always got a little mayonnaise schmutz on his cheek after he eats. (I’m so happy he’s a napkin-using kid.) He’s taller too. The wording and tone in his conversation is maturing. Wow, this child. There are days when he treads heavily on my last fucking nerve, but most of the time he’s just a sweet, sweet boy.

But he can be so freaking serious sometimes, and last week while I was snapping pics of him, I couldn’t help fucking with him, just a little…

Me: Oliver, um… I have to tell you something.

Him: What?

Me: Well… it’s not good news, I’m afraid.

Him: What is it? You can tell me, mummy. Just say it.

Me: *heavy sigh* Okay. Um… well… gosh, Oliver…

Him: Can you just tell me? Just SAY it, okay? Just tell me what it is.

His eyes are so round with worry. I can’t help it.

So, of course I continue. I mean, I must.

Me: Okay. I spoke with your doctor the other day… remember your check-up?

Him: *gravely and with a solemn face* Yes…

Me: Well… the thing is… you’re… you’re not growing anymore. This size you are? Well, this is as big as you’re ever gonna be. I’m so sorry.

I can feel his panic, but I wait. Delicious. Oh, he will HATE me after this…

Him: *shocked* What? But.. but… but wait! Are you sure?! When did he say that?!

Me: *puts hand on his shoulder assuringly* But don’t worry, love. You’ll get OLDer… you just won’t get any TALLer. Okay? I’m glad I finally told you. That went well, don’t you think? Phew! Daddy and have been trying to tell you for DAYS!!

Him: You’re kidding.

Me: *shakes head from side to side* No, no I’m not at all… so sorry, darling. But the GOOD news is, your BEARD should start growing in next week. *smiles broadly*

Him: *giggles nervously* No. No! You’re just joking. You are joking, right mummy? Right?! For serious. Seriously.

But just one tidbit more to drive him nuts…

FOR CERTAIN…!

Me: *deadpan* And daddy and I ordered a wife for you. She’s from China. She should be here sometime next week too…

Him: Nooooooooo! *shrieks with laughter* Stop it! You’re kidding…

Me: I’m NOT kidding! She’ll be here by Monday after next, I think… her name is Ming-Kai.

Him: *hysterically laughing* Mum! Ming-Kai is a BOYS name!!

Me: Oh, sorry… maybe it’s Ming-Li. Yeah, that’s it… your new wife’s name is Ming-Li! Sorry about that… and you should probably make some space in your dresser for her things. She’s about thirty years old, or so she said in her letter…

Him: Stop it.

Me: Hey! Do you think they have Superman razors at the pharmacy?

Him: STOP IT! I mean it. Stop. It’s not funny.

Me: Oh, c’mon. That’s TOTALLY funny!! That’s funny, no? Yes. Funny.

Him: It’s NOT funny. AT all. Stop it. I’ll call daddy.

Me: oooOOOooo! *mockingly, waving hands in the air, surrendering* Please! Don’t call daddy… yikes!!

(I kill myself laughing for close to two minutes, I’m sure. Shit, that’s funny.)

silence

Me: Okay. I’ve stopped.

Him: Thank you.

Me: I was just kidding.

Him: I know. It’s not funny though.

Me: Okay. But I hope Ming-Li has better sense of humour than you do. I mean, GOOD GRIEF child!

Yep, he hates me.

. . .

Don’t look at me like that. I know I’m a perfect asshole sometimes. But really, I just can’t help myself… heh.

G.G.