Some of you know already, and for the rest of you: I have a son. His name is Max and I am among the millions of parents that believe their child is the funniest most talented and smartest child alive. For most of his life, certainly all he remembers it has been he and I alone in a house. I grew up with two married parents and two very close (both in age and in our relationships) sisters. There was commotion in our house and people around at all times when I was a kid. Now, with just Max and I, life has a dimension that even after six years I am not yet used to. But I love my life and my son and I think we make a great family.
Max, for whatever reason, has a spirit so unique and so hilarious that I could never get bored when he is around. His everyday comments on life are comic gold. One day he said to me, well he screamed it from the bathroom, “Mommy, come here and look, it looks just like Woody Woodpecker!” Yeah, TMI, but I am learning that little boys look inside the toilet with fantastically different intentions than little girls.
Today he hopped of the school bus with a wacky new hairdo and a huge smile on his face. “Look, Mom! I got a mohawk!” he said. I bent down and touched his hair and it was sticky and smelly. I asked him what he used to stick it up with and he said, “Tyler did it.” So I asked what Tyler used. “I don’t know, we can’t read.” was his response.
After two shampooings he still has a mohawk, so tomorrow he will have a buzz cut.
Lately he has been writing “stories” and I am going to share them with you.
“I went to my Grandma’s house.” This is Max on the left and Grandma on the right. He also says “wit” instead of went so the spelling makes sense to him. Max often gets asked if he moved from Boston. He is amazing at dialects, or he just says things funny.
Over Christmas my parents were in town and that meant last minute shopping at Target. While my mother and I were looking at plastic junk, my dad decided to create a new game with Max. The name of it was “Bumper Carts”. The concept does not need to be explained. My dad and my son have the same maturity level and luckily they were not asked to leave.
I went to a store.
Of course the only store he will remember us going to. Target. See the bullseye?
Thank you for indulging me as I brag about my son.