For some reason, I feel like when we are sitting at a table at a restaurant, which is fairly often in this house, my kids open up more than they usually do. Okay, only Jack. Sam opens up at any time of day. Jack is the kid you have to drag stuff out of. "How was school?" "Fine." That has been the answer every day of his life. The only variant is "Bad." He tends to say most things are bad or he doesn't want to do them until he tries them. Then he wants to do them or will do them, either way.
Anyhow, here are some recent tidbits I've gotten at restaurants:
Jack to Sam: Sam, What do you want to be when you grow up?
Sam: Stares at him blankly, looking bewildered.
Jack: You know, when you are big? What do you want to be?
Sam: (no hesitation at all) LIGHTENING MACQUEEN!
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Me to Jack: So, buddy, are you done learning about the body yet in school?
Jack: You know. (This is another VERY common answer. I am supposed to just 'know' what is going on there. I guess he thinks I have a camera in his classroom at all times?)
Me: No, I don't know, actually. Are you?
Jack: Yes.
Me: So, you are learning about the earth now? (I only know THIS tidbit because he came home covered in paper mache for three days straight, and he said it was because they were making the earth)
Jack: Yes. But it is boring. I already know it all. (This is sort of his specialty, geography, and all things related).
Me: So, when she talks about the facts about the earth, you know it already?
Jack: Yes, it is simple stuff.
Me: Like the continents?
Jack: Yes.
Me: Do you know them?
Jack: MOM
Me: Do you?
Jack: Of course I do!
Me: Prove it.
Jack: *Rattles them off as he ticks them off on his hand*
Me: Kid, I taught seventh grade, you know. Do you know how many kids knew that when they came into my class?
Jack: How many?
Me: Absolutely none.
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And one more of my favorites from the weekend that was not at a restaurant:
We are at Jack's soccer game. He has been dying to be the goalie. He isn't what I would call the most gifted athlete on the planet, but the kid is very much willing to play and it is hard to get him off of the field to take a break during the games. The coach lets him play goalie at the end of the game once it is pretty obvious we are going to lose. I am so thankful that this is the case so that I don't have to stress out that he is going to miss a ball.
The games goes on, and my son is doing okay as a goalie. He stops a few, all by kicking them away. I walk down there and say "Jack. You can use your hands, you know." He scowls at me and says, "I KNOW! My feet are MUCH STRONGER!"
The results of his quarter as goalie were that the other team scored twice. He was less than pleased. Afterwards he was upset because the girl that scored, he said, cheated. "How did she cheat?" I asked him. "She kicked it to me when I wasn't even ready!!"
Ah, my child. To know him is to love him :-)
