Saturday, June 14, 2008

The SMD continues...

Came back from an important exploration of an employment opportunity this morning to find my son in a vegetative state in front of Ratatouille for the fifty-bazillionth time. I thought of taking him to the new Insectarium in town, but my Audubon Institute membership doesn't cover it. Fifteen dollars (ten for the little guy) is a bit too steep for my blood - plus, the only thing he's really fascinated by, bug-wise, is the forearm-sized millipede, which really gives me the creeps.

"When will they include the cost of it in with the membership?" Dan asked on hearing the cost of the tickets.

"When hell freezes a thousand times over," I said.

The sky opened up and rained down on us instead, keeping us inside. It treated us all to the spectacle of my husband going through my son's books, isolating most of the board books and/or the stories he'd clearly outgrown, and then clearing them with the little guy. One particular grouping had a JayJay the Jet Plane board book, Little Bear and Safari Sam, Is Your Mama A Llama?, and Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?

Guess which one the kid wanted to keep, much to my husband's chagrin?

"I want the JayJay book," the child says. "Put it on my tab."

"What??????!!!?!?!?" I said, laughing heartily.

"Uhhhh....I mean, my bookshelf."

More small groupings are run by the little guy. Guess How Much I Love You goes. A Clifford lift-the-flaps book is a keeper, as is The Monster At The End Of This Book. A Blue's Clues push-button sounds book is kaput, thank God. The keeper that causes the most hilarity amongst us cruel parents, however...

"He's keeping it?" I say, giggling uncontrollably.

Dan holds up Time To Pee and grimaces. "I think he's just keeping the largest books he sees, now, " he says.

"Well, that one might be a keeper due to sentimental value..." I say, and Dan snickers.

Yes, the child is potty-trained, and that book was used to aid in that training quite a bit...but I think all those mice on every page holding up encouraging signs have imprinted themselves on my son's brain and invaded his imagination. He sees imaginary mice in movies, TV programs, and in the car on occasion, along with the leopard penguins, Curious George, and various other imaginary creatures. If all these things were real, my home would be a smelly mess...or, at least, one that would make the smelly mess that is currently my home even smellier and messier. Whatever...

I surf the web for curiosities on the CompUSA Special as Dan checks out some opportunities of his own and we all watch the "3 Ring Government" video on Schoolhouse Rock. "It certainly is," Dan says.

"That's the truth!" I say. "I think about that every time I see this! Life imitates art, huh? Then again, this was done post-Watergate, right?"

"Mom, I want cucumbers for dessert!" the kid declares. We have no choice but to comply, since trying to get the little guy to down even halfway healthy foods is a tough order these days.

"Today, the books. Tomorrow, the toys!" Dan says as he slices up a cucumber, and I become a little sad for the fifth time today. Things are changing very fast for us these days. The boy is definitely growing up. Big changes are coming for Dan and me in the employment department...

...and now Dan is back from the ice cream parlor.

So, so glad he didn't come back with that candied bacon and cinnamon flavor. Seriously pukeworthily treif, that stuff...


saintseester said...

Cleaning out the books is quite sentimental business. My daughter did not want to give up her "No more Diapers," Muppets book. I did put several in a big box in the attic for future grandkids. I just couldn't part with them. The toys were easier for me to cull.

Leigh C. said...

Why do you think I entrusted Dan with the job of the books? ;-)

One look at MY bookshelves and most folks can see right off that trying to cull my own stuff is a hell of a job I am loath to take on. Plus, if the JayJay book is the one that mysteriously ends up going with the rejected ones, DAN is the one to blame. Heh heh.

Cold Spaghetti said...

You mean someday we'll have to part with 'Is Your Mama a Llama?' I'm sad just thinking about it.