Hold on for Dear Life

Boys are gross.  Sorry, they just are.  Okay, maybe your boy is not gross.  But YOURS is.  So, YOU know what I mean. But, maybe not you.

I came across another surprise in the toilet one morning and I had JUST had enough.  What is so hard about flushing?  It's one little swipe down, but it makes all the difference.

WILLIAM!!!

What, mom?

You HAVE to start flushing when you POOP!  It's SO gross!

(Giggle).  Okay, mom. (I was not convinced).

That's it.  You are NOT getting ANY privacy ANYmore.  From now on, I will be IN the bathroom with you EVERY time you go to make sure that you both WIPE and flush. (Aside--William is not a consistent wiper, but he is almost always a "perfect pooper."  Spot wipe checks are almost always clean, but 95% is not 100, so he needs to get in the habit.  Just sayin').

What do you mean?

What do you MEAN, what do I mean?  I mean that I will be with you in the bathroom every time you go to make sure you wipe AND flush! (Aside #2:  William loves his privacy.  Even when he wants an escort to the bathroom, for whatever reason, when he gets there he insists that you leave. That's why I figured that this would be an effective threat).

And it went back and forth with him asking me to restate my position.  If you have a young child, you probably know what I mean.  They don't always believe you the first time when it's something that they don't want to hear.  EVEN when you're consistent about following through with threats.  It's like they're always holding out hope.

He gave me one last desperate look, and clutching his hands over his "man parts" asked

Are you really going to take away my privates?

How do you explain to your child that you are not in favor of genital mutilation when that is what he pictured in his head?  I don't know if I can erase that image.

Going on a Chicken Hunt...Wanna Come Along?

So, the other morning, we were sitting at the breakfast table.  Eating breakfast food.  Cereal and oatmeal (which I know is technically a cereal) when William asks

Do chickens die when you kill them?

(A little background.  William is a little bit obsessed with mortality.  He may be a teeny tiny bit anxious.  And a candidate for Zoloft).

Me:  Well, yes.  Just about every time.

I have a great idea.  Maybe one day, when it's not a school day,  like tomorrow, we should get a bow and arrow and go hunting for chickens.  And then when we find one, we can shoot it with an arrow and kill it and then we can eat it for dinner.

Hmm...I wouldn't even know where we would go hunting for wild chickens.

I know.  Maybe we could go to a farm.

I think we could find chickens at a farm, but I don't know if we would need to kill them with a bow and arrow.

How would you kill it? (Now, I don't know why I was hesitant to tell him how you could wring a chicken's neck or chop a chicken's head off.  Even typing it now, it seems so violent.  More violent than a bow and arrow, though?  Or...)

Maybe you could shoot it with a gun.

I think that might be a little overkill.

What you said?

Never mind.  I don't think you're old enough to use a bow and arrow.  We'll just buy our chickens at Kroger.