Thursday, July 5, 2012

lessons for my son

A couple weeks ago I was in Target with Donovan, picking up a birthday present. And a sports bra. Donovan is at the age where, as we approach the lingerie section, he moans and says things like, "Oh gross. Do we have to be here?" And I, in return, make him hold the sports bras I'm comparing. Oh come on - they're like mini take tops.

This day, as we were leaving, I motioned toward the bag as I put my wallet away and said, "You can carry the bag. It has the present for the birthday party it in." He began to gingerly pick it up, while saying out of the corner of your mouth, "Yeah, but it has your...um...thing." What thing? I had genuinely forgotten, so quickly had we picked it up and moved on. "Your...bra."

"My bra?" I said, in a normal volume.

He began to giggle with embarrassment. "Mooooooom!"

"What? BRA?" A little louder. "You can SAY it, you know. It's not a bad word."

At this point he realized I was playing a game with him, and he began to echo me, albeit a bit quieter, as we walked out of Target to the car. Now, it should be noted the place was pretty deserted. But you can't deny the adrenline rush you get when you do something you think is a little on the edge.

As we got to the car I yelled, "Underwear!" (such a rebel) and Donovan just about exploded into giggles. "MaaaawwwwwwwwM!" he gasped. And then tried to mimic me (a little quieter).

Driving away, he said, "I wish I could yell it out the window."

"Go ahead," I shrugged.

I could hear him take a couple deep breaths as he rolled the window down, and then the window began to roll back up and as the opening shrunk, he muttered, "Underwear."

Um, no buddy. I rolled the window down, along with mine, and yelled, "Underwear!" This time he yelled it louder than he had said it before, but still barely above conversation volume, before he sunk back against the seat, giggling uncontrollably.

"Is your heart beating fast?" I asked him.

"NO!" he exclaimed, but immediately whispered, "A little bit."

I'm sure in a few years I'll regret teaching my son to do some of these things. But for now, this summer is devoted to the art of playing. We have been spending an excessive amount of time at the pool in the evenings, at the park or out in the neighborhood during the day, and building ninja training courses in the basement.

We're also managing to fit in an hour of reading, math fact practice, and training for the Olympics. All in a hard day's work.

1 comments:

NancyO said...

I wish I could go shopping with you guys.