Cute Kids Have Problems, Too

This afternoon, the boys and I were at CVS (buying, incidentally, 4 Soy Joy bars, 1 mascara, 1 foundation, 3 razors, and a Crest spin brush refill for $.80! yep, that's cents.), when one of the employees began smiling and waving at Kyler and Beckett. This happens everywhere we go. People are suckers for little kids. And in Texas, as opposed to Wisconsin, where approaching strangers and making silly faces at other people's children is not just common practice but a sign of politeness and friendliness (after all, you can't just see kids in a shopping cart and NOT say anything. that would be downright RUDE!), our shopping excursions are typically delayed at least 5 min. to stop and chat with a new acquaintance about these two adorable boys. I am fortunate that my boys are typically well-behaved in public. They relish in others' attention and will flirt, smile, and say silly things to get it. So, this particular CVS incident was nothing unusual and pretty much expected. Except, when the woman said, "Your boys are just too adorable!", and Beckett responded with equal parts exasperation and annoyance, "Why are people ALWAYS saying that?!" The woman just stopped and laughed. Bellowed is more accurate. Then she replied, "Because it's so true." See, Beckett's old enough to remember the days in Wisconsin not so long ago when we could shop uninterrupted, without the joyous gushing over his and his brother's cuteness that's now, at least to Beckett, so painfully predictable and confusing. Now, here in Texas, life is just full of problems. It's hard being cute.

Too Cool for School

Since Beckett started attending school, I've received many comments on what a "neat kid" he is (not picking up the toys from every bucket in the playroom that he's thrown on the floor "neat," but 80s middle school "neat.") His teacher has been impressed with his knowledge of letters, memory, matching skills, and his uncanny ability to connect animals to their primary food source while tracing a winding dotted line. (Apparently, this last skill was quite impressive and can take all school year to master. Yes, my son is a genius at tracing and feeding hungry animals their proper diet). She's often impressed with the connections he makes and astute observations. But he's not just intellectual. Oh, no, Beckett apparently is quite nurturing and empathic. Just ask the little Italian boy in his class who speaks very little English and was so distraught over his mother's leaving him at school that he cried almost the entire 3 hours of class. Beckett was, reportedly, very helpful and assured him his mother would indeed return, and, in the meantime, he could play with Thomas the Tank Engine. And then, there's his conversation skills. The mere fact that he never stops talking means that at some point he will say something truly remarkable. The director says, "we just love having Beckett here," and has remarked on how self-sufficient he is. Now, I acknowledge, she might say that to every parent. But I have to think I was singled out simply because of Beckett's awesomeness.

Is it possible to get an inflated ego because of your offspring? Maybe. But just as you start to pride yourself on wonderful parenting skills and remarkable genes, you watch your son painstakingly attempt to hang his lunch box from his penis, trying again each time it falls (the lunch box, not the penis) crashing to the floor. When you ask him, "Why? Why are you doing that?" he responds both emphatically and casually, "Because my penis is a good hanger." Well there you have it. He is a genius!