Monday, September 24, 2012

Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Freckle

I have a vision that one day my children will look back on their childhood and remember me fondly for my quirkiness and humor.  I imagine they will one day be sitting at dinner together with their respective families and say “Remember when mom…”.  They will then tell some story of my hilarity.  There will be many from which to choose.  I don’t think this will be the case though.

The other day I decided to name the two freckles on Hudson’s nose Fred and Fiona Freckle.  I thought he would think this was funny.  There was also the sappier version in which he is going through a hardship at school and feeling lonely but is comforted by the fact that Fred and Fiona Freckle are always there with him, then recalls this when he’s older as a time I was able to give him strength.  Look, I never claimed to have brilliant ideas.

However, I can now sadly report, based on the look I received, that my kid thinks I’m a dumbass.   Oh, I know a look can’t completely prove what my child thinks of me.

But this can.
“Hudson, tomorrow we need to clean up this playroom.”
“Let’s do it sometime when I feel like it.”
“Are you ever going to feel like it?”

Still not convinced.  How about we add a tone of condescension to the mix?
“Hudson, did you just take that from Kenzie?”
“No, she gave it to me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m smart.”

There you have it folks.  Irrefutable evidence that my son thinks I’m a moron.  I am living with a pint sized Sheldon Cooper.

The worst part is that even my not yet 2 year old daughter has joined the mom's an idiot bandwagon.
“Kenzie, you pooped?”
“In your diaper?”
“Like where else would you poop?  That was a dumb question.”
If sarcasm is a developmental milestone, I'm pretty sure she's got that one nailed. 

Since my kids are obviously smarter and wittier than me, if you need to have an adult conversation or need the answers to any important grown up questions, check with my kids.  I’ll be sitting by myself laughing at fart jokes.