always be honest, except for when you lie

Thursday, December 30, 2004

in mine ipod, he said

Super Boy just found one of the missing pieces from his Magnetic Doodle Thingy. The circle, I think. He raced over and essentially shoved the shape up my nose because as any child knows parents see everything better when it is shoved up their snout.

I Found It, he declared, as though he'd unearthed the Hope Diamond (is that missing? I have no idea).

Good, said I, gently removing the item from my nasal cavity. Where does it go?

In here, mommy, he said, and ran over to the Magnetic Doodle Thingy. In mine ipod, he said.

My materialism is spreading.

Not thirty seconds ago he raced in here as I typed this out to share with You.

Did you hear that loud crash, mommy, did you?

I did, Love, what was it?

Mine ipod! It fell on the floor. I have to go pee!

I don't think he picked his ipod up the way I certainly would have done should mine have crashed to the floor with such a tremendous thud. You know I would have been in a fit of tears, calling for Emergency Apple Services to dash over and rescue my poor mp3 and photo player. Granted, he had to go pee, as you see, so perhaps this is what kept him from properly tending to his own ipod.

It's good to know that despite all other indications Super Boy does hear what I say. That he appears to digest those aspects of what I utter which are less than pure is of little consequence. So he can curse like a drunken sailor and is bent toward fine technological items. As long as he's listening to me what the hell do I care?