Secret Service Exposed

Last week in church, our younger children were given a "Secret Service" Badge, with some little paper smiley circles that they were to leave when they did a secret service during the week.

One day this last week, Matthew found four quarters and a smiley face on his pillow.  I reminded him to make sure he made a big deal of it, so the kids knew how much we appreciated their thoughtfulness.

The kids were in the bonus room watching a video.   Matthew walked in, hands in the air, and with an excited voice, said, "Someone left some coins and a smiley face on my pillow."

Four heads turned, all with smiles.

Henry piped up.  "It was the tooth fairy."  Cute. We assumed that he put the money on there and then covered up his secret good deed with a clever white lie.

Turns out, Henry was guessing.

Today in church again, the teacher asked who had done any secret services during the week.   Jackie waved her hand high in the air.

"Well.  You see.  My family is kind of low on money, so I left money and a smiley face on my Dad's pillow."

I'll Buy You That

With Daddy full time in school, the kids have learned that they can't have everything they want.

And neither can Mom or Dad.

Today my husband drove the neighbor's  truck home from church and parked it in our driveway.  When we pulled into the driveway, I wistfully looked at the truck and commented to the kids, "That truck looks like it belongs in front of our house.  Wouldn't it be nice if we could buy a truck like that for Daddy?"

Immediately Morgan (9) piped up optimistically, "We can start saving to buy him one!"

"Hmmm . . . . " I answered.

Henry had an even better idea:  "Mom, we can make him a truck like that!"

The Bucket

The other day I came home from preschool with Henry and a friend.  As soon as I stopped, before I even put the car into park, those boys bounded from the car and disappeared into the back yard. 

The sky was periwinkle blue, and the temperature hovered in the high 60s.  I was sure the boys were headed to the yard to swing or bounce on the trampoline, so I headed into the kitchen to clean up some breakfast dishes. 

A few minutes later, the boys came in.  My attention turned from the pot I was scrubbing to them--I turned off the water and watched them take off their shoes.  I was surprised they were back so quickly. 

But then, with my back up against the sink as I contentedly watched these happy boys, I heard the following conversation, just a few feet in front of me:

Henry, with a smashingly coy glance my way:  "Nathan, we shouldn't tell Mom, should we?"

Nathan, with an incredulous look backward: "No Henry!  Don't tell your mom."

It was so funny, this conversation happening right in front of me, that there was no way I could be mad.  

I chuckled and said with a smile:  "Oh yes, Henry, you should always tell your mom everything."

Henry cocked his head sideways, fluttered his charming blue eyes, and shrugged his shoulder (see picture below), smiling and giggling a bit, "Yes Nathan, we should tell Mom."

Nathan, putting his hands up in frustration:  "No, Henry."

I smiled genuinely and purred at Henry, coaxing:  "What would you like to tell me, Henry?"

Henry must trust me a lot to have told me this, though he seemed quite unconcerned:  "We peed in a bucket."

Me, a little worried now.  For the record, I don't even like the word pee:  "You peed in a bucket?   Where?  In the garage?"

I could just picture a bucket of urine in the garage, waiting to be knocked over to make a yucky mess.

Henry laughed.  "No." 

He doesn't say this, but I imagine him thinking, "No, of course not, Mom.  We're smarter than that.  We wouldn't pee in the garage."

Henry: "On the other side of the house."  Smile.

Me, relieved that it's not in the garage, but curious now:  "Is the pee still in the bucket?"

Henry:  "Oh no, Mom, we dumped it out."  Of course.  Of course.

Here's the bucket.  Those responsible little boys dumped it out.  I wonder if the neighbor caught a glimpse of those tiny bare bottoms.  

Lovin' that Teacher

Morgan really loves her fourth grade teacher, Ms. Roberts.  Really loves her.

At some point, I plan to expound upon her reasons for adoring her teacher--there are many, but I just wanted to post a note Morgan wrote today.

I asked Morgan today what she wanted to do tomorrow when she has the day off for Veteran's Day.  Here is the list she gave me.

Animals Out the Window

I was in my kitchen the other day, peacefully working on cleaning up, when a floppy thumping sound at the window made me jump.  I looked once, but did a double take.  Here's what I saw swinging back and forth against the window:

Morgan informs me it's Popcorn, Sweetie, and Captain Crushy (Webkinz hamsters.)  They were on a hamster ride out the second floor window.

I'm sitting here falling asleep--my eyes close and I write something completely off the wall.  Then I ak . . .  oh my . . . can't . . . stay . . . awake. . . .

Boys and Guns

I'm well aware that this is not novel . . . to anyone who has any experience with boys.  But I'm recording it anyway.

I asked Henry this morning what he liked best about preschool.

Without hesitation, he answered, "I like playing with guns best."

Now, knowing that Miss Jan doesn't have guns at her preschool, I asked, "What guns did you play with?"

 "Lego guns." Big surprise.

What kinds of things have YOUR boys turned into guns?

Tooth Fairy Disfunction

Our family is completely disfunctional . . . but I would hope that somewhere out there, someone has the exact same problem we do . . .

The tooth fairy never comes the same night someone loses a tooth.  It always takes at least several nights, sometimes a week, sometimes more than a week.  Once there was a tooth that wasn't visited for an entire month.

But you know, as I tell the kids, the tooth fairy has a lot of people to visit around the whole world.

Jackie lost her tooth Sunday.

Excited, she put it in a bag and put it under her pillow.

Monday morning rolled around, and of course, no tooth fairy.  Jackie came to me, "Mom, the tooth fairy didn't come."

Me, in my best matter-of-fact voice:  "Well, you know, Jackie . . . um . . . the tooth fairy has a lot of people to visit!  All around the world."

Jackie:  "Oh, I know, Mom."

I guess I have her trained well.  I think she was disappointed, but my kids all know it takes a while.

Tuesday morning rolled in.

Jackie:  "Mom, the tooth fairy didn't come."

Me:  "I'm sure she's coming.  She has a lot of people to visit!"

"I know Mom. But Mom, there's more than one tooth fairy.  They're all over the world."

My answer:  "Oh. . . well . . . yes, maybe so.  But even if there's one tooth fairy for the entire United States, that's still lots of kids to visit."

Jackie:  Giggle, giggle.

Whew.

Tonight Morgan, my 9-year-old, came to me after Jackie went to sleep.  "Mom, don't forget the tooth fairy."

"Ah shoot," I said, turning to Matthew.  "Do you have a dollar?"

"Uh-oh," he answered.  "No."

Morgan piped up, "Mom, I have a dollar.  I"ll pay the tooth fairy if you'll pay me back.  Can I put it under the pillow please?"

Is it normalcy or total family disfunction when the 9-year-old has to do tooth fairy duty because of forgetful parents.  Who knows.  You may have the same problem when you have four kids some day.