Monday, October 21, 2013

Never Stop Learning

Sometimes my kidlets are a walking lesson in lateral thinking. They come up with what I deem to be rather-random-but-it’s-logical-to-them solutions to everyday problems.

Case in point: how to transport caterpillars.

Not long ago I was working in the garage, and Mr Lannis had taken the boys on a bike ride. I was still puttering away when they returned (never ending furniture refinishing will do that do you), and my six-year-old was babbling about how many caterpillars they’d seen in the field grass.

And you know when the kids are rattling on and on and on incessantly, mind-numbingly, oh my lord just shut up already! What are you even saying...?!

(Just me? Okay. Worst parent of the world award. I’ll own it.)

Anyhow. He’s chirping away, and the content of what his piping voice is saying is vaguely registering.


To play with later...

But he was bike riding...


It’s about this point that I put two and two together (go me!), and out another Thing I’d Never Thought I’d Say (item #8975):

“Please take the caterpillars out of your pocket.”

My obliging six-year-old happily digs into his pocket and bodies of fuzzy, brown and black Wooly Bears begin tumbling to the floor.


Never in a million years would I have thought to transport caterpillars in my pocket.

Apparently I’ve been missing out.

Of course Mr Lannis shrugs and says he didn’t bother putting his foot down on the matter—yes, he’d been aware that the child was stuffing Wooly Bears in his jeans. Yes, he’d told our youngest not to do that, but he didn’t see anything wrong with it in the long run, as he figured the kid would learn why we don’t put caterpillars in our pockets...

Spoken like someone who doesn’t have to do the laundry, am I right?

Know what else I learned? As in, not just what bizarre phrases I never dreamed would pass my lips?

I learned that Wooly Bears in a pocket will poke their fuzzy spines through several layers of cotton (jean pocket lining and underwear) to leave a scratchy patch of let’s-hope-it’s-just-irritation on a boy’s thigh.


The things I never thought I’d know...


  1. There are some things I'd be okay with not learning.

    Also don't worry, it's not just you. I remember the days before I had kids capable of speech. Lots of kid babble, some pointing and grunting, but generally nobody expected me to listen to the babble and make intelligent responses. Now I have to listen to them ramble on and on, pay attention, AND make all the polite conversational responses. I'm not proud to admit I've told them both to just please be quiet and let me enjoy some silence for a bit. It's all good, I'll let you have the top bunk in mommy jail with me.

  2. Top bunk! Woohoo! Hahahaha! ::snort:: :D