How brains work*

At 8:30 am, The Boy was being difficult. Wouldn't help with his shoes, wouldn't brush his teeth, something else. (I'm sure his greatest offense was that I was sleepy and cranky.) Finally, I took a fistful of trains away from him, so he'd concentrate on getting dressed and out.

Then he rode to school in the car then he drew shapes at school then he sang songs then he read a book then he had free time then he traced letters then he made a painting then he got dressed then he greeted me picking him up then he ate Goldfish in the car then he peed his pants a bit so we took them off then he ran up to the house with no pants then he finished his Goldfish then he got new pants on then he ate macaroni and cheese.

And then, at about 12:45 pm, he didn't ask where his trains were. No, he asked where I had put "the blue one, the purple one, the red one, the orange one and the two yellow ones." Intrigued, I asked him to repeat that while I looked at the up-high-out-of-his-reach crow's nest. And you know what?




Anybody still think they don't notice when you call someone a bitch?



*Original title was "How little brains work," but that's an unintended double entendre (albeit a pretty good one).