Most of the time, I don’t really want to know what is going on inside Brock’s sweet little head. But every now and then, a little nugget of his psyche escapes and it stops me in my tracks. On Sunday, I was blessed with two nuggets within an hour.
In church on Sunday, Brock was sitting on my mom’s lap and he was getting antsy (shocking, I know.) Semi-important aside: Keep in mind we were only about 15 minutes into the service at this point. Distraction works wonderfully with my son. Usually. As Brock was getting louder and his toys were getting less interesting, Mom leans in toward Brock and whispers, “Do you want to come to my house after church and eat lunch?” To which my son replies very simply, “Yup.” Then my mom takes it one step further and asks, “Do you want chips?” To which my son replies (loudly), “No! Cheetos make me POOOOOOOOP!” This, of course, made us laugh because it not only caught us completely off-guard but mom didn’t ask him specifically about Cheetos. Maybe he thinks Cheetos are the only kind of chip that exists(he has eaten other varieties). I’m not really sure. All I know is somewhere along the line, he has decided that Cheetos make him poop. And he wants to declare this very loudly in the middle of church. The men in front of us and the family behind us couldn’t stop laughing either. I would have been laughing too. But it was my child. And it’s never as funny when you are the one that is being publicly humiliated.
When church was almost half-way done (Again, semi-important aside: this was only 15 minutes after Story #1 occurred), the preacher was just beginning her sermon. Brock looks up at me from his favorite spot under the pew and says, “I go pee-pee.” Just as I’m opening my mouth to ask him if he is kidding (because he does that a lot. He thinks it is funny to tell me that he has to go to the bathroom when he really doesn’t. Usually it is at the most inconvenient times. He is going to be the death of me.), he looks me square in the eye and says, “Mom, I sewious.” Of course it makes me laugh. Did I mention he said it loudly? No? Well, of course he did. He doesn’t have an indoor voice. When the good Lord was making my son, he forgot to add a soft voice.
Ah, parenthood. Oh and you might be wondering where Greg was in all of this. I’ll tell you where he was. He was on the golf course with his new bestie. But that is an entirely different post.