The Grammar Police

Me: C, are you gonna get ready to go?

C: Mom (dripping with disdain). It's "going to," not "gonna." Sheesh.

Imagine: ME - Stunned in to Actual Silence

The bus I take into the City is the last weekday commute bus leaving from Novato. GGT decided at the beginning of March to move the departure time up by ten minutes. No big deal in the big scheme of things but in the world of the mother of an 8 year old who is NOT a morning person and whose only speeds appear to be "dawdling" and "incredibly slow," ten minutes is really a lot of time.

So yesterday morning, after asking him to move along, pick it up, move faster, get going, come on, speed up, about one million times (just an estimate) I finally exploded. I was sitting in the van, waiting, as he lollygagged his way toward the side of the van where the door was closed, rather than the side of the van where I had opened the door for him. I banged on the windshield to get his attention.

C: "What?!?!?!?"
me: "Come ON - I am SO late!"
C: "Well so am I. DEAL with it."

Just Fine, Thanks

M and I are standing in the family room the other day as C comes walking through. As he passes, he says to M:

Hey Dad. How's it hanging?

me (sotto voce): Does he know what that means?

M: Hey C. Do you know what that means?

C: No.

This is what happens when you let 8 year olds watch PG-13 movies. We didn't actually discuss it, but it seemed like a good idea to keep him ignorant for awhile longer.

The Starving Children In Novato

So M took C to a party over in the East Bay yesterday. They got home early evening and I asked C if he had had anything to eat. His reply: "Yeah (lots of attitude). More than anybody around HERE ever feeds me."