Our 2nd born child, who shall remain nameless, recently left a pair of stinky-played-basketball-in-socks on top of the stereo in his bedroom (and yes we still own a stereo!). Even after several reminders to deposit them into the laundry room, they remained on the stereo, gathering dust. Today, his father, my husband, in all of his wisdom, and with great humor, secretly put those stinky socks into the top of Will's (oops, said his name!) back-pack and zipped it up. Will was so happy to find the little present when he got to school, and so were his classmates - NOT!
My oldest son got in trouble at school today. It was group picture day, when they take a picture of the entire student body......all 60 something of them! My son got yelled at and reprimanded - not for smoking, selling drugs, cursing or stealing. He got in trouble for putting a little piece of black tape under his nose like a Charlie Chaplin moustache for the picture, messing up the best shot of the morning. If that's the worst thing he does in high school then we have it made.
My daughter loves numbers. She counts everything - not really in a genius-like, Rainman kind of way, but she sees everything in terms of numbers and amounts. If we are peeling carrots or potatoes, she's counting them. If we are hanging out clothes, she's counting the clothes pins. If I let her, she'd count every spaghetti noodle in the pot. And she wouldn't care if it took her two hours. She counts ceiling tiles, holes in the wall, stripes on a page, etc and etc. She definitely did not get this from her mother.
My youngest son just turned 11 last weekend. He announced the morning of his birthday that he felt much more mature that day.
I was thinking I've been feeling more mature lately too - especially when I'm extra stiff and sore in the mornings when I get up or when I have to hold the fine print of an advertisement further away from my face to be able to read it.