Most of the Time, My Kids Surprise Me.
After Dylan and I came home from our jaunt around town on segways, I asked him a question.
We’d ridden segways once before, and my feet hurt substantially less on our second go-round. I wondered if it was that I’d worn different shoes, or if we’d had an easier ride, or if the ride was a little shorter.
“My feet just don’t hurt this time,” I said to Dylan. “What do you think?”
Dylan looked up from his chair, where he was smiling and tapping away on his cell phone. “Huh?” he said.
“What do you think?” I asked again.
Dylan said, “I think – if you illegally copy a movie, and you do it on an island somewhere in the southeastern part of the United States…. Does that make you a Pirate of the Caribbean? That’s what I’m thinking about.”
Sometimes I don’t get what I expect from my kids. In fact, I am starting to realize, most of the time, my kids surprise me.
Last night, I was on my way to bed and Shane followed me down the hall.
“Mom! Mom!” Shane whispered frantically. I turned around, tired but wanting to know what he needed.
“Mom, what did the pirate say on his 80th birthday?”
I am not sure how this is so urgent that he needs to chase me down the hall at midnight, I thought. Still, I waited a second before giving up. “Arrr,” I said.
“No,” Shane said. “He said, ‘Aye, Matey!'”
“Aye Matey,” I repeated aloud. “Oh, I get it! That’s pretty clever.”
Two pirate jokes in one day. I am not a fan of pirates, or pirate jokes, or anything to do with pirates, except Johnny Depp – who, I must say, is better without the drunken Jack expression.
Still, pirate jokes from my kids are okay. It sure beats yelling, screaming and trying to control their every move.
I guess it was a pretty good day.