Certain Restrictions May Apply

Glaringly absent from the Mothers Day festivities a couple weekends ago was Snick. He was too tired and didn't want to come downstairs just for ME on MOTHERS DAY which pissed Pootie off to no end (and is a prime example of why his name is Snickety).

But when everything died down and everyone was lounging around on my bed (you know, helping me relax) he came down with an obviously-just-made coupon book.

I LOVE homemade gifts the best. I honestly do. But these coupons have me convinced Snick has a very successful future as the guy who comes up with the small print at the bottom of credit card offers.

He is the kid (*cough* 4th grader!) that we were told needed tutoring in writing, as in drawing letters not composing stories. It was pretty illegible, but he read them to me. Here are the highlights.

One coupon was for "One free borrow. Anything of mine you want to borrow, but only ONE thing for. . . . . . . ONE WEEK OR LESS!!!!" He wrote and said that last part like that was one spectacular deal I was getting. I've been racking my brain but I can't come up with anything a 9 year old boy owns that I'm just dying to get my hands on. But I'll hang on to it for a few years and see what he gets for Christmas from Grandma.

Another one was a freebie coupon for anything. The "Your Choice" coupon. Disclaimer: "But not too hard." Clearly he's on to me and knows that if I were given My Choice of Anything in the Whole Entire World it would be for him to do a chore.

Even though I didn't get it or anything close to it that morning, I did receive a coupon for 1 free breakfast in bed.


It looks like the stipulation for this one is that it will only be honored if I become pregnant again. Or am on my death bed. Which is a certainty if I became pregnant again.

The last one is a coupon for "one free car wash". But that isn't as endearing it seems either. The strings attached to that one are that "it has to be on a warm day and only on the outside because the inside is too disgusting." You know because those ar MY candy wrappers, empty pop cans, toys and dirty socks back there. And cleaning it up for me would just be sending the wrong message.

:) Thanks, Snick. You made my day.

**My own disclaimer: It really was great day and I love everything they did for me (such as provide blog fodder) and gave to me (except the migraine).

Sucks To Be Just Another Cog in the Wheel

So. I got a call from the elementary school principal yesterday. Not a note from the teacher. Not an email from the school. A CALL from the PRINCIPAL. This was Big Time.

Snickety and his friend got mad at a couple other boys at recess and called them a name. A BAD name. A name so bad that I gasped (ME!) and then tried not to giggle because she,THE PRINCIPAL, had said it. I will never be able to look at her the same ever again. Every time I see her now I will hear that word over and over in my head. Anyway. She said they will have to stay in at recess for two days next week and she was sending home a discipline referral form for me to sign and send back. I apologized to her and thanked her for calling. Then I waited for school to get out.

I picked the kids up and acted normal, but for the knowing glares I gave Snick. They went right over his head. I asked how everyone's day was. "Goooood" they all chimed. Really? I asked. Everyone, all of you, had good days? Nothing bad happened? Nope. Great days, in fact, because it was the first early release day ever. OK. We'll just see about that, mister.

We got home and I told Snick to put his backpack away and then come down and sit on the couch. SSB and I were in chairs facing the couch just like I'm sure an FBI interrogation room is set up.

SSB: So. What did you do today?

Snick: Well. First we had regular class, then we went to recess, then we had Switch Class, then we had lunch, then we came back and had AR time then we packed up to go.

SSB: Oh. What did you do at recess?

Snick: Well. First I got in line to play kickball because I thought we were going to play but no one else came. Then I walked around by myself. Then I saw some boys playing with a football and I thought they were playing Jackpot which is my favorite game so I went over there. But they were playing football so I asked if I could play.

(My heart is breaking a little right now but I gotta hang tough.)

SSB: And did they let you?

Snick: Yes.

SSB: And that's all?

Snick: Yeah.

Me: Time out! I don't think that's all. What else happened? Where else did you go?

Snick: No where.

Me: EH! (buzzer noise) Wrong! Let's move on to you going to the principals office.

Snick: Oh.

SSB: Why did you get sent to the principal's office?

Snick: Well. These guys on the other team made a touchdown and they were being really mean and bragging about it and then when they punted it they hit Daniel with the ball on purpose. He called them names and then I copied him and then they told on us and when we went back to the room the teacher took us to the office.

Me: What name did you call them?

(Ready for this??)

Snick: A cogsucker.

SSB and Me (trying really hard not a laugh): A WHAT??

Snick: Cogsucker. I don't know what it means but it is inappropriate.

SSB: Yes it is. But what you said isn't what they think you said. They think you said _______ sucker (Edited for family reasons. One of them being my dad he thinks I already have a potty mouth.)

Me: Do you know what that means?

Snick: No.

At this point SSB, all flustered and floundering, goes on what I call a "Sin and Syntax Rant" trying to explain American colloquialisms and slang and getting his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth in the process. At a convenient stammering point I jumped in.

Me: Penis! It's slang for penis. So when you said they were _________ (again edited so as I won't be disinherited) what does that mean you say they do??

Snick just stared at me with a mortified look on his face for what seemed an eternity. Then instead of answering he just said, "I get it." I like that answer. That boy will go far in this world, I do believe.

I'll spare you the blow by blow (tee hee) of the whole conversation but what it comes down to is that the other boy said it first. He had heard it on a movie, he said. Snick copied him in a misguided attempt to avenge his friend. The school doesn't know that he didn't actually say the REAL version but that's OK. He'll do his time for calling a name even if it wasn't what they thought it was and he didn't know what he was saying.

He knows what it is NOW though. And he will NEVER SAY IT AGAIN!!!

More from the mind of Snick

"What do you think would happen if humans were the only living thing in the world?"

and

"What do you think would happen if the earth was controlled by something inside the earth?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like if there was a big display in a country that had like a sponge or a donut or something and all of the earth and space and beyond was in it or on it and if someone came and ate it we’d basically be in him. And if he got sick then we’d get thrown up probably."

That kind of seemed like two different things to me. The explanation seemed like it went with a different question but I just asked, "Why would someone eat a donut that was on display?"

"Well I’m guessing he’d be a hobo or something and it was the security guard’s night off."

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Thursday is his turn to say the prayer at dinner. This was tonight's:

"Dear Lord, thank you for this food Mom made for us and I pray that we get our chores done quick so we can go out and play again. Amen."

Follow the Yellow Drip Road

On Wednesday Snickety and BeeMan's room was a disaster so I sent them in there to clean it. However, as soon as I turned my back they both slipped into their bathroom. Together. Kids together in the bathroom with the door closed is never a good thing. When my sister and I went into the bathroom together we were either eating spoonfuls of Country Time lemonade powder or doing experiments that included piling baby powder and Old Spice aftershave onto a Kleenex.

I didn't actually notice them until BeeMan came out. And being naturally suspicious, I opened the door and caught an eyeful of Snick sittin' on the pot. Nice. I closed the door most of the way so I could talk to them both and asked what they were doing in there. Beeman said they both had to go to the bathroom really bad RIGHT THEN. I pointed out that they can't go pee at the same time anyway (which they COULD but I wasn't going to say that, lest it become it pastime) so why didn't Snick clean the bedroom while BeeMan was going to the bathroom and then BeeMan clean while Snick was going? He shined me on and just said "Oh yeah. We could have."

I kind of thought there was more to the story but I have to pick my battles so I just went downstairs. A few minutes later I heard SSB say, "OK, but I still have to tell Mommy you lied to her" and he came downstairs quietly chuckling and told me I had been duped. I said, "By whom? The little freckled-faced one?" Yes.

Apparently as soon as I left BeeMan opened the bathroom door and said, "Whew! That was a close one!" Not gifted in the area of sneakiness, he said this within earshot of SSB who was obviously sitting in the next room and thus began the interrogation. Knowing they were busted, they folded like a cheap card table and made the job very easy. They spilled their guts about how they had been peeing into empty pop bottles and keeping them hidden in their closet. Why? Because they wanted to see how yellow the toilet would get when they finally dumped it. OK. Time for good cop/bad cop and I am always Bad Cop. ALWAYS. I went upstairs and made a dramatic entrance into their room where they were busy as beavers cleaning up.

"I'm mad!" I announced. "Do you know why?"

"Because we peed in bottles" BeeMan whimpered.

"No. Because you lied about it. You guys can pee into your HANDS for all I care but you can NOT lie. And Snick, even though you didn't say a word, it was still lying on your part."

"OK."

"So. Do you guys want a spanking or do you want to do an extra chore?"

"Extra chore" they said in unison.

"OK" I said as I left. "And if you want it to be yellow, just take a vitamin in the morning."

Tee hee.

So now they have started over to get it yellower. Here it is hidden in the sleeping bag in their closet. Ew.

A Man of Action

Snick is very excited for this weekend. Yes, we are going to a birthday party this afternoon, but that's not what has his spirits soaring. This Sunday night he and SSB are going to a World Vision banquet and he can't wait.

Three Christmases ago when Snick was 6 we somehow ended up watching one of those help-save-the-fly-covered-kid specials one night. You know the ones. The ones that most people flee the room from or turn the channel to anything, even PBS or the Womens channel, to avoid. Not us. Not this time. I thought since it was Christmas it would give the kids a chance to think about giving instead of getting. Change their focus a little. We sat and watched and it was very heart-wrenching

There were some very sad stories about kids who lost their parents to AIDS and had to work to survive. In one story about a brother and sister the grandparents died, then the dad, then a brother and then the mom got sick. The two kids worked enough to send her to a hospital, but she died there. The hospital only sent back her clothes so that is what they buried and went visit her grave. Ugh! But through story after story about orphans and hunger and death, the kids sat in stony silence. No one moved or commented. A few tears may have slid down some cheeks but they were quickly wiped away.

Snick seemed the most unimpressed. He watched and took it all in but kept a very blank look on his face. This wasn't, and still isn't, unusual. We're used to this look. I thought I'd give him a break, he WAS only in first grade and its not like he could really save anyone with his $1.50 a week allowance anyway.

About half-way through he asked if he could write down the toll free number that was at the bottom of the screen. I said yes and got him some paper. He already had it mostly memorized and wrote it down without much looking. Then he wrote down the website also.

We watched a couple more stories and then he asked for more paper to write a letter. In big, 6-year-old scrawl that took up the whole paper he wrote: "Your life must suck. No mom. No dad. Only a gramma or grampa. Watching you makes Snickety sad. From Snickety. To: (blank)" Then he drew a big heart.

He got an envelope out of the desk drawer and put his letter in it and then got all of his dollars out of his piggy bank and put that in too. On the TV they said it only costs a dollar a day to sponsor a child so he figured out that since he had $31 saved up he could help someone for a whole month. He sealed it up and wrote our address in the corner.

SSB came home at about that time and watched with us and saw what Snick was doing. He praised him for his big heart and then tried to explain to him that we would probably have to send a check. Snick had no idea what a check even was, and as SSB was explaining the banking system to him he just went over and started dialing the phone and called World Vision. Enough stalling. While we all sat there feeling sad and sorry or trying to be practical, he was the only one that actually did anything about it. SSB took the phone to talk to them for him. Snick then became the proud sponsor of Foday, a 7-year-old boy in Sierra Leone.

If it had been me that called World Vision, the thing that I don't think I could even fake is how humble he was about it. As we all sat in amazement at his generosity and caring he just went on upstairs to watch cartoons. It was no big deal to him. To him it was just something needed to be done.

Now he gets letters every month, not from the kid, but from the organization. There is always a calamity that needs to be taken care of. I have started keeping them from him because he wants to send extra money all the time. He got hold of one last summer though. This one was orange and had "CHILD KILLER" across it with a picture of a mosquito. A child dies every 30 seconds from malaria. Well. Snick couldn't let that happen. He read the whole thing from front to back, top to bottom then decided he was going to send some of his own money for malaria medicine. He marked the $30 donation box. SSB tried to talk him down to $10 because it would his own money, not our credit card like the automatic monthly donation. They went back and forth, discussing and disagreeing and somehow in the end he convinced his dad to let him give $50, not $30. Don't ask me how it happened, I wasn't there. But I sure wish I had a tape recording of THAT conversation.

I am curious to see what happens Sunday night. I told SSB to NOT take the checkbook and credit cards with him but I'm afraid if he does that the only alternative Snick will give him is to bring an actual child home instead.

All Thumbs

Snickety is one of the sweetest kids anyone will ever meet. When he was 6 one night I noticed that my hands smelled like garlic. I hadn’t made anything for dinner that had any garlic in it so it was a mystery. I washed them and slathered on some VERY smelly lilac lotion. Everyone was almost gagging because I smelled of lilac so much.

But after an hour or two it wore off, at least on my thumb. My thumb again smelled of garlic. Or battery acid. Or rat poison. I had received differing opinions when I asked each person what they thought it smelled like. Right before bed I asked Snick what he thought. He said he thought it stunk, but didn’t know what of. I let it go at that and he went and brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas. later he came out and gave me a hug and kiss goodnight and said, "If I had a four-leaf clover, I would wish that your thumb would never smell like that again." How sweet and selfless!

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Pootiepie was, and still pretty much is, a tomboy. When she was about 2 she wouldn't wear anything but jeans. Then it progressed to no girl shirts or shoes or anything at all girly. Everything had to come from the boys' department and even then it had to be JUST RIGHT. At the end of Kindergarten I even relented and let her get her hair cut BOY SHORT, like with a mountain top in front. She loved it.

About a month before she turned 4 I was sitting in the glider rocker and she came and sat on the stool in front of me. She was very serious about something. Her eyes were as big as the moon. She looked straight at me and asked, "Do you want to know how to be a man?"

"Sure," I said.

"OK" she instructed. "Do this." Then she stuck her thumb in her mouth, pulled it out with a POP! and wiped it across her forehead making a cowlick in her hair. I copied her.

"Do this" she said again and the thumb went back in her mouth, out with a pop, and wiped it down her shin.

We did the same thing to the other leg. I was a little freaked out because she wasn't giggling or being silly or anything. She meant business. Where had she learned such a ritual?

"OK. Now do this" she said as the thumb went in her mouth. It came out with a pop and she made a squinched-up icky face.

When I followed her lead and did the same she said, "Does yours taste yucky too?"

I'm guessing she wiped a bunch of dirt off her legs with that thumb then tasted it. Ew. I said no.

This went on a few more times wiping our wet thumbs across our foreheads again (but NOT in our hair!) across one cheek and then the other. Then she just sat there and stared at me.

Finally she said, "There. You're done" and left.

She was so intense and serious I was just a tiny bit afraid to check my drawers. I never figured out how this all came about in her little head or if she really believed it or not. I'm glad it didn't work on either one of us, but she may still be a bit disappointed. Especially now that she has to shave her legs.

Does a Bear Poop in the Woods?

Yesterday while driving Pootie to track practice at 6:45 a.m. she was unusually talkative. Almost manic. She does this when she is feeling guilty or upset. Most of her ranting was about a fort out in the "woods" next to our house. (The kids call it the forest but its just a strip of trees between our neighborhood and the private property next to us.) She and Taz had gone out to their friend's fort with him and were having a good time until Taz decided to take a leak right then and there.

Now. I know males of all ages pee outside from time to time. They can, so they do. And they love it. In fact, just a couple weeks ago I walked out the front door and saw BeeMan hydrating the rock wall between our house and the neighbors' and laughing his little head off. Its kinda gross but I don't really care that he did it, just that he did it in the front yard next to the driveway. You know, where the street is and all the people in cars passing by.

I can easily forgive a just-turned-six-year-old for doing it once in the front yard and I could probably forgive a 13 year old for doing it in woods if he had the sense to move away from his sister and friend and keep his junk hidden. But as it was, Pootie caught an eyeful and seemed a little unsettled by it, as evidenced by the constant blabbering.

"Look at that sign" she said in the car. "It looks like an optical illusion. Back there it looked like it was curving back, but now up here it looks like its curving toward us. I don't even know why I looked."

"At the street sign?"

"No. Last night. At IT. I thought he was squirting a water bottle and I looked up."

When Taz got home I told him to come home when he has to pee. Its NOT far. His answer, which I could have said along with him for I knew what was coming, was "But I had to go really bad." I told him to go before he leaves the house then and left it at that.

Less than three hours later Taz and Pootie were back at the fort and this time they had Snick with them. This was a thorn in my side anyway because they hadn't finished their chores and getting their stuff done on time has been an ongoing battle so I met them on the sidewalk with all kinds of admonishments. To my surprise I didn't get much resistance. I should have known something was up. I should have recognized their relief at being in trouble for leaving and not for anything they did while gone. But I didn't.

I was only caught up to speed later at bedtime by a, once again, prattling Pootie Pie. Just out of the blue she blurts out, "We had to go poop really bad in the woods."

"WHAT?? You went POOP in the WOODS??"

"Yeah. I had to go really bad."

"How did you wipe your butt?"

"I didn't. But I took a shower."

Can you picture me at this point? Try.

Actually I had a pretty exhausting day because of Bunny's constant whining and use of the word no and so by the time I learned this bit of news I was done for. I just sat. Sat and stared. No yelling. No flailing about. Pootie isn't used to this apparently, so just kept blabbing.

"Well. At least I didn't use my undershirt to wipe and then just leave it there like Snickety did!"

"He pooped in the woods too?"

"Yeah."

Ah. That's where the "we" came from. Of course.

Now I am just a deflated blob. A mommy puddle. So she didn't stop there. She had one more thing to add as I melted away.

"And Taz thought he'd get in a whole lot of trouble 'cuz he peed again. But he had to go really bad!"

Its A Grey Matter

Snick is an unusual child to say the least. They way he thinks and things he says are simultaneously hilarious and frustrating (see this previous post).

Some time ago he gave up giving me daily good news and turned to what I call "Snickety's Grey Matter in Overdrive". Not EVERY day, but very frequently he'll walk up to me and ask a random question.

"Mom. What are your three favorite foods?"

"Mom. If you could have any super power, what would it be and why?"

"Mom. If you had three wishes, what would they be?"

"If you had one wish what would it be, but it has to be something real." To that one I responded, "Oh. So nothing like world peace?" He said, "No, you could wish for world peace. Just not to be able to fly." I think I have a better shot at flying than world peace.

It's like his synapses are firing too quickly and he just has to spurt out these questions. He doesn't care about the answers. Sometimes he doesn't even wait around to hear them.

I'll start blogging his questions from now on to give you all a chance to experience the essence of Snickety. Today's question was pretty good.

"Mom. If you had to write a song about one fact, what would it be?"

I said I'd write a song about how the word for apple in French is "pomme" and the word for potato is "pomme de terre" which literally is "apple of the earth" or "ground apple".

What would your song be about?

Snickety - isms

SSB was looking for the tape and couldn’t find it anywhere. He asked the kids if they had it. Taz said, “No, I don’t.” PootiePie said, “No, I don’t.” Snickety said, “I do!” This surprised SSB. He turned around and said, “YOU have the tape?”

With a confused look on his face, Snickety said, “Where?”

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When he was 5 Snickety one day pointed out to me a seam in the crown moldings and said it was broken. I looked up and just said, “Yeah it is.” Then teasingly I asked him, “Did you break it?”

Again with the confused look he said, “Break what?”

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Snick is one of the piggiest of our kids. He has not once put anything away on his own. Ever. Once, also when he was 5, his big rug with roads printed on it for toy cars to drive on was in the middle of the kitchen floor. I asked him why it was there. He said he didn’t know. I asked him who put it there. He said, “I don’t know, but I hope it wasn’t me.”

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Everyday for about a month when he was 5 and occasionally since then, Snickety would give me a random piece of good news. “Good news, Mom! I’m not going to pick my nose anymore.”

“Good news, Mom! I’m not going to leave my shoes on the floor ever again.”

“Mom! I got some good news for ya. I’m not going to run amuck ever again in my whole life.”

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Recently SSB took Snickety to 7-11 and Snickety held the door open for him. SSB said, “Thanks, Snickety!”

With a smile on his face, Snickety said, “Girls first.”

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Everyone went over to Grandma and Grandpa’s new house for dinner one night. I had given the kids instructions in the car about their behavior. “Don’t just sit and watch TV. Be polite! Talk to Grandma and Grandpa!” They all agreed.

About halfway through the evening I heard SSB tell Snickety to stop picking his nose. What? I thought he was joking. No way had Snickety been lying on their new couch picking his nose! I looked at SSB and said, “Really?” and he nodded. I still couldn’t believe it.

A few minutes later when there were less people in the room I went over to Snickety and whispered, “Did you really picked your nose?” Yes. Ugh!!

“Really? You had your finger IN your nose?” Yes.

I said, “Do you really think Grandma and Grandpa want boogers on their new couch?”

Snickety said, “Well I wiped it on my pants like I usually do.”

That set me off. I went into Crazy Mom mode scolding him in a fast and furious whisper. “Like I usually do!! As if!" I told SSB what Snick said and he just laughed. Grr!

Later he went over to Snickety and asked him if he can call him Booger Pants now. With a slight pout on his face and a sigh of resignation Snickety replied, “I don’t see any reason why not.”