This weekend, Jeremy and I tried to be good parents. We promised our son Henry a trip to the zoo. He was so excited to see the elephants, the snakes and his favorite, the tigers. But when Saturday morning rolled around, and Henry came waddling out of his bedroom, still wiping the sleep out of his eyes, we pounced on him and said, "Gotcha, sucker!" We then proceeded to point at him and laugh, because we totally weren't taking him to the zoo. He began to cry. Jeremy and I then went in for the kill. We just danced in a circle around him chanting, "You're not going to the zoo! You're not going to the zoo!"
Then Jeremy's intervened with a series of complex graphs demonstrating the high and low pressures in the weather system. He went on to explain precisely how precipitation is formed and wrapped it up with a five-day forecast. While, we certainly were appreciative of his enthusiasm for meteorology, Jeremy mistook our dumbfounded expressions as signs of encouragement (or interest) and began explaining his long-held belief that the US government controls the world's weather. My good friend Margie knows better.
So, like any other mother who thinks quick on her feet, I had a flash of genius. Why don't we participate in a fun, family activity together? Something entertaining, yet educational. Something where my three year old would be handling sharp scissors and a hot iron. (I didn't say it would be safe.)
What I can do, is tell you that Henry screamed at me a few times that I was a mean mom for not letting him cut out letters for his shirt with a sharp pair of scissors. He also threw that same shirt at me because I wouldn't let him play with a hot iron. Reese tried to eat most of the letters from off the floor and Jeremy worked up a sweat keeping both kids away from me so I could finish this fun family activity down in the basement. All by myself.
Jeremy opts for the ever classic ringer tee for his first creation.
Jeremy claims I'm his trophy wife, only he didn't exactly come in first place. Jen is what you get for coming in fifth.
We lovingly call Jeremy this. Shh. He doesn't know it's not exactly a compliment.
Henry can often be heard saying this around the house. Let me clarify, Henry can often be heard SCREAMING this around the house.
This is what Henry calls his little sister.
This is Jeremy doing long division in his head.
No explanation is really necessary.