"Mom, how many friends did I have over after school today?" Rojo asks, milk dribbling down his chin, Fruity Pebbles being shoved in his mouth, eyes turned towards me.
"You had four friends over," I answer.
"But there were six people," he argues.
"Matthew, Michael, Greg and Ian, four friends," I argue back, "plus you. Five people all together."
"And Ian!" he says.
"Yes. IAN. Michael. Greg. Matthew. Four."
"And Matthew!" he says.
I sigh. Heavily.
"MATTHEW, IAN, GREG AND MICHAEL!" I shout.
"And Michael!" he says, dimples in full swing.
"I said Michael!" I say, "you're killing me, here!"
"But you didn't say Greg!" he says, eyes twinkling.
I fling myself dramatically on the window seat, pretend to gasp for breath, arms flailing around, he nearly chokes on the Fruity Pebbles, such is his joy.
When I stop he looks at me and says, "Mom? Let's go back to the killing."
5 comments:
I believe there was one more friend. This was one was nicely ignored while Rojo was so engaged with said friends.
Rojo is such a hoot!
You are the perfect--indeed the only--mother for Rojo. You two are so lucky to have found each other. Check that. Not lucky. Blessed.
Oh, so blessed.
It is obvious, you missed counting the fifth friend while he was getting a drink at the drinking fountain at the park. LOL
I know you have one of these for each and every day--and I know you hold back on us for fear it won't be as funny or endearing. But it never gets old.
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