Clayton's final words before climbing into bed tonight:
"Oh I really hope the Republicans win because I don't want to have to pay too much taxes when I grow up."
thanks honey, for teaching our 8-year-old how to analyze polling data.
Isaac rolled in an ant hill at the Primary activity. He got about a dozen bites on his neck, face, and back and made quite a scene screaming, flailing, and tearing off his clothes. All the adults ran over to inquire about the hullabaloo.
Clay: My little brother just got bitten by a million ants!
Isaac: (after calming down a bit) I'm not the little brother. I'm the medium-sized brother. But. . . (examining his flaming skin) you can just call me "Poor Thing".
Brig: I know why everyone loves me.
Me: Why?
Brig: Because I'm cute.
like I said. humble.
Brigham sat in Nate's chair, opened up Nate's scriptures and announced in his version of Nate's voice:
"Today we are going to read about how the Nephites destroyed the evil emperor and saved the galaxy!"
close. . . close enough.
Brig: Sometimes when my teacher calls my name, I forget my name is Brigham Smith.
Me: Oh yeah? What do you think your name is?
Brig: Super-duper-smarty-boy.
Did I mention my kids are humble?
Isaac wants a dog. He's been researching different breeds.
"Poodles are the most France dogs. That's why girls like poodles, because they like France and. . . froo froo."
I introduced the kids to artisan bread dipped in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. They hated it and ran for the plain ol' butter. This is what Isaac said while I, alone, sopped up the rest:
"Oh, I get it. You're a Telmarine. That's why you like oil with your bread. And Brigham is from Archenland because he doesn't eat butter. But me and Clayton? We're from Narnia. That's why we eat butter - only butter with our toast."
yup. I actually looked it up. Ever read The Horse and His Boy? words to live by. . . apparently.
I was tucking Isaac into bed when I noticed his special blanket was missing.
Me: Isaac, where is your blue blanket?
Isaac: I don't know. But I don't need it anyway. . . I have you, mom. And sometimes when I go to sleep that's all I need. Just you. (snuggling deeper into bed and smiling a very content smile)
Sometimes the payoffs for being a mother are sweeter, richer, and trump any reward I could have ever imagined. To be loved above blue blankie is an honor indeed.
I rummaged through my closet and finally found my gold-tinfoil "Golden Plates" that I made years ago for Primary. Isaac wanted them for his Family Night lesson.
Brig: Wow! Mom! Where did you get those?
Me: Oh, I just dug them out of my closet.
Brig: Did an angel show you where to dig?
.
2 comments:
Luke and Clayton should really be best friend. Star wars, piano, classical music, and now this?! During the Presidential election two years ago I had to have a big discussion with Luke about the differences between Republicans and Democrats. The tax issue was a kind of hard for him make a decission on. On the one hand he doesn't want to have to pay so much money, but on the other hand he does want nice roads, libraries, and police officers. Such a dilema for an 8 year old!
Em, anytime I'm feeling a little less than chipper, all I have to do is pop in on your blog and read what your kids have been saying, and I'm laughing out loud and feeling cheerful again. Thanks!
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