Conversations with Stink can be considered either terrifying or hysterical depending on one’s mind frame. I choose the second option – it’s so much freer. People who insist in living life at option #1 are going to be forever frustrated with Stink’s personality. While those on Rigid Island insist my son is aggravating, Stink lobbies fart bombs and puns their way at such a rapid fire they don’t have much chance. It’s lovely living in Stink’s world.
On that note, here is a conversation we had last week. It involved my need for Stink to learn a life skill, so that he isn’t living with me for the rest of his life, and his insistence that I am horridly unfair that he only gets to play video games on the weekend. We settled on the agreement in the following manner:
Me: You can game 20 minutes/night if you learn an instrument. I’m thinking piano, violin, guitar, drums….
Him: I like the xylophone. Or the harmonica.
Me: Um… well… how about a language? We can go with French, Italian, Spanish…
Him: I have always wanted to learn Mandarin. I love Chinese. Don’t you just love Chinese people and everything about that country?
Me: Sure, Stink. Chinese people are amazing. But what about your hair? What are you going to do with an afro on the Great Wall of China? We will see you from space.
Him: That would be awesome! But you know what I really want my hair to look like?
Me: Short? (Dear Jesus on a pogo stick, please let him say he wants a hair cut.)
Him: I want my hair long. And straight. (Giant pause) And black. Like Violet… from the Incredibles.
Picture me passing out as I visualize my trans-gendered ticker in China collecting rubber ducks and passing out camel cards.
What are camel cards? His Valentine’s Day cards of course. Because “Humphrey” – a silly stuffed animal – is his favorite hump day treasure. He brings it to school in the middle of the week, shouting, “It’sssssss…. Hump Day! Humpty humpty humpthy huuuuuump Day!” He took a photo on his Tablet, turned it into a card, and added a Pokemon to the inside of it. It matters little if everyone else likes Pokemons. He does.
Me: Is it possible you’re a bit old for this kind of, um, behavior?
Him: (faux offended, mimicking a knife going into his chest.) Are you kidding? People love Humphrey! People think he’s so cool. In fact, he is our class mascot now!
Of course he is.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I find this behavior outrageous, hilarious, and terrifying. If you’re a praying type, I accept your prayers. If you’re not, I accept your wine.
Good night, dear friends. If I can survive my kid, so can you. If you have a child like mine, he is not weird. He is an artist! And really, that is the way to be.
PS: Stink told me he very much loves girls. He wants to marry a girl. In fact, Tuskany’s lovely lady is still #1 in his book. (Sorry, Tuskany, if my 6’9 beef cake whisks your petite doll off to China.) Stink also agreed to let me blow out his hair today. This is the result. He is now less Jew fro and more Beetles fro. It’s all great until the braces come. And his feet threaten to require their own bedroom.