Nerves of Steel

Lewis received one of those metal water bottles from his father and carried it around for a couple days. We stopped at a gas station and he asked if he could have some strawberry milk. One sugarfree Red Bull (for me) and a Nesquik strawberry milk later, and we got back in the car.

 

“Can I pour my strawberry milk into my stainless steel water bottle?” Lewis asked.

“Yep,” I replied.

“Will it stain it?” he wondered.

I was confused. “Will what stain what?”

“Will the strawberry milk stain my stainless steel water bottle?” Lewis answered.

I replied: “I think you’re not taking into account the definition of one of the words you are using.”

Lewey asked, “Which word?”

“That would be the word ‘stainless’,” I said

My son responded with an impish grin: “Oh!”

 

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Give Me Strength

My boss asked me about my tattoo and Lewis told her that I had a word in Chinese tattooed on my back.

“Actually Lewey, the word is written in Sanskrit.”

Lewey asked, “What is the word?”

“I chose the word ‘strong’ for my tattoo,” I said.

Lewey replied, “What about ‘loud’?”

This is why I picked ¬†“strength” – to remind me to ask for it daily.

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Lefties Vs Right

Lewey and I were talking about the differences between right handed people and left handed people. I told him that typically lefties were considered more creative than righties and he didn’t like that at all.

“I’m not saying there aren’t extremely creative right handed people,” I said. “It’s just that there are a large percentage of left handed people that are very creative because we use both sides of our brains more.” He still didn’t like this and started telling me all the wonderful things that right handed people do.

“Well, there is one benefit to being right-handed,” I conceded. “Right handed people live about 9 years longer then lefties on average.”

“So I’m gonna live longer than you?” he asked.

“Well you were going to anyway,” I told him.

“But you are supposed to live less because you are left handed?”

“Now don’t go worrying about all that,” I said. “You can’t worry about things like that, you just gotta live. People can worry about that all day long and then get hit by a bus and they wasted their time. It doesn’t matter if you’re right-handed or left, you just have to enjoy yourself. I was just telling you that left handed people, only on average, can pass away sooner than right handed people.”

Lewey replied: “Maybe they pass away sooner because they keep getting hit by busses.”

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Elfie

Lewey and I were riding in the car when he saw two boys and exclaimed, “I know them! That’s Hunter and Elfie!”

“There names are Hunter and Elfie?” I asked.

Lewis replied, “Well, Hunter’s name is Hunter, and I made up Elfie as a nickname for the other kid.”

Not sure what to think, I said: “You made it up?”

“Yep,” he responded.

I asked him why. Lewis said: “It’s not a mean thing or anything. He’s just really short and his ears are pointy.”

Hothead

Little man was sent home today with a fever ūüė¶

I tried to get him to lay down and go to sleep but he said that it hurt too much.

“What hurts?” I asked him.

“My eyelids are hot and when I close them they burn my eyeballs,” he replied.

“Well, let me see if I have anything to reduce your fever before you get so hot that your brain starts boiling.”

Lewis looked at me, closed his eyes and said, “You’re very encouraging.”

Buckets

Lewey and I were joking around the other night and, after teasing him mercilessly, he told me someone needed to keep me in line.

I said, “Good luck with that. I’m what they call a handful.”

He replied, “You’re what they call a bucketful.”

Mother-son bonding time at the Brogan/Winer IV residence.

The Tween Years

So I put Lewis to bed tonight and, while I was hugging him, he poked my side and asked why I was so squishy.

I told him I was working on it.

He replied, “You’ve been workin’ on it for quite some time. How’s that going for you, anyway?”

~sigh~
These are only the ‘tween years…

I Have a Dream

Luisito and I roadtripped to Indianapolis this past weekend and, on the way, we played various car games. ¬†One of these car games was “The Trivia Game”. ¬† After asking Lewis several American history Q’s, I asked him what Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s most famous speech was. ¬†Lewis looked at me like I was an idiot.

“Really, mom? ¬†You think I don’t know that? ¬†Why are your questions so easy?” he asked.

“Ok,” I said. “What was is then?”

“I’m not even going to tell you,” he replied. “I’m gonna let you sit there and think I don’t know. ¬†Then I’m gonna tell you.”

This went on for several minutes and finally Lewis asked, “Are you ready for me to answer?”

“Go ahead,” I replied, already hearing the words “I Have a Dream” in my head.

“LET FREEDOM RING!” he yelled out.

“Um, no. ¬†Not so much,” I answered.

“Yes it is! Teacher said so,” came the indignant response. “Teacher said so” is said a lot in my house. ¬†However, 329 Agnes ain’t the classroom so “Mom said so” rules here. ¬†After briefly arguing with my child that “Let Freedom Ring” is not the speech people associate with the late and very great Dr. King, I told him the speech he is most known for is entitled, “I Have a Dream”.

“That is NOT his most famous speech,” Lewis informed me.

“Lewis, it IS his most famous speech. ¬†Trust me,” I said.

Lewis said: ” It is NOT his most famous speech because he only said it once.”

So much for the Gettysburg Address, Kennedy’s Inaugural Speech, the Pearl Harbor Address to the Nation, MacArthur’s Farewell Address to Congress – apparently, great leaders, it’s not that important if you only say it once.

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My Bubby

Lewis is really growing up. I handed him clothes for school this morning and he told me to stop speaking baby talk to him. Apparently they’re not called “sockies” anymore…

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Puppy Dog Tails

My darling little bouncing baby boy is approaching that dreaded time in any youngster’s life: Puberty.

The hair on his legs has darkened and regardless of the mandatory daily shower, he no longer smells of baby powder and No More Tears shampoo.  I realized for his sake and mine, it was time to step-up the daily hygiene routine.

I selected Arm & Hammer’s antiperspirant for my smelly little fella and presented it to him one afternoon when I felt he needed it most. ¬†He took the deodorant from me, rubbed it all over his hands, and then rubbed his hands under his arms. ¬†Realizing I hadn’t exactly taught him deodorant protocol, I asked why he chose to administer the anti-perspirant in this manner.

His reply:

“Now my hands will smell good as well!”

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