Tabula rasa

by Janie Jones

This completely describes my spud.

At lunch yesterday:

Me: The mac n cheez is hot.
Spud (shoveling in a fork full): Oh! It’s hot.
Me: *Sigh* Blow on it a little.
Spud (shoveling in a second fork full): Owie!
Me: What did I say!?!
Spud (shoveling in a third fork full): *wincing* It’s still hot!
Me: Didn’t I tell you to blow on it a little?
Spud (cursory blow to the fork of steaming mac n cheez): Oh! Hot! (chugs cold beverage and continues to burn mouth shoveling in food)

Dinner time yesterday:

Me: Here’s your stew. Be careful now, it’s hot.
Spud (shoveling in a spoonful): Oh! It’s hot.
Me: *Sigh* Blow on it a little.
Spud (shoveling in a second spoonful): Owie!
Me: What did I say!?!
Spud (shoveling in a third spoonful): *wincing* It’s still hot!
Me: Didn’t I tell you to blow on it a little?
Spud (cursory blow to the spoon of still steaming stew): Oh! Hot! (chugs cold beverage and continues to burn mouth shoveling in food)

Think this is amusing? Not so much when this is the meal time conversation going back every meal for the last 6 years.

But, it’s not just food.

The other day the spud comes in the house crying.

Me: What’s wrong?
Spud: I ripped the skin off my cheek.
Me: What?!?
Spud: My cheek.
Me: Yes, I get your cheek. How’d you rip the skin off?
Spud: On my swing chain.
Me: Oh! I see. Well it’s so cold your bare skin will freeze to the metal. Don’t let your bare skin touch anything outside any more.

Yesterday.

Me: Why is there blood on your mouth.
Spud: Because my tongue ripped off.
Me: Your tongue ripped off?
Spud: Yeah. On my swing.
Me: You put your tongue on the swing!?!
Spud: Yeah.
Me: Didn’t I just tell you the other day not to put your bare skin on anything outside or it would freeze?
Spud: Yeah. But it was just my tongue. It froze and ripped off.

I know, logically, there must a brain in there somewhere but there has been precious little evidence of that so far.

However, heaven forbid I change a routine at all, then the observation police are all over me like ugly on an ape. This morning for example, I was not feeling to swell, so I didn’t bother to put in contacts.

Spud (accusatory tone): Momma, you are wearing glasses!
Me: Yup. That’s right.
Spud: But you only wear your glasses at bedtime.
Me: Well, I wasn’t feeling too good this morning so I didn’t put them in.
Spud: But it’s not night time.
Me: Yes, but that’s okay. The world won’t come to an end because I’m wearing my glasses in the morning.
Spud: But you don’t feel good?
Me: No. I probably have your cold.
Spud: But I have a cold.
Me: Yes, and you have probably shared your germs with me.
Spud: I think you are copying me. That’s not nice. You shouldn’t copy.
Me: Just eat your breakfast.

Later:

Spud (scandalized tone): Momma! What are you doing!
Me (putting snowpants on over my robe to walk the spud to school): Getting ready to go. Come on get your boots on.
Spud: But why are you putting your snowpants on over your robe.
Me: Because I don’t feel good and it’s cold outside. I don’t want to be cold.
Spud: But how did you do that!
Me: What do you mean how! I just put my snowpants on like always.
Spud: But you have your robe on. How did you do that.
Me (exasperated): You just watched me do it. There is nothing to explain. I had my robe on, I put on my snowpants. Now pay more attention to what you’re doing and less to what I’m doing or you will be late for school.
Spud: But how are you going to walk me to school with your robe on?
Me: Contrary to what you might think, Merrie, wearing a robe has nothing to do with my ability to wear snow pants or walk you to school.

Ahhh. 6 year old logic. She can’t possibly remember or give importance to waiting for her food to cool, but if you wear glasses or a robe at an abnormal time, whoa! Everything falls apart.

I suppose these are the days I am reportedly going to look back on fondly. Mostly I just pray she doesn’t blink, effectively wiping the slate clean, and we have to start all over. But seriously, you gotta love ’em when they cough in your face as they give you a sticky, snotty, maple syrup and sausage smelly, germ laden kiss. And, after 6 years the urge to immediately have a de-con bath does fade to a mild twitch. You even get really good at smiling through the whole thing, especially when you’re pretty sure the kiss isn’t meant as an evasion tactic to getting in trouble.

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