Conversations with my sons this evening

“How was Imagimotion today, honey?” I asked my youngest. He takes a preschool gymnastics-dance-movement class on Tuesdays.

“Good.”

“Well, what did you do? What songs did you hear?”

“I dunno. I forget.”

“You don’t remember anything? Did you have class today?”

“Yeah, mom. Can’t you just read about it on your phone?” (I get email on my phone.)

“Uhmmm, well, yes, I imagine I can, but I just thought it would be nice if we talked about it together.

“Well, can you read it to me when you get it on your phone?”

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“Mom, can you type my paragraph for me?” my middle son asked me as we walked out of extended day. We had just written the paragraph together this morning. We spent a full hour doing this homework which he swore up and down was only just assigned, and I had not checked his day planner as I was out of town last week.

“Well, I don’t know, honey…”

“Oh, c’mon, Mom! You’re a much better typer than me.”

“Yeah, well, what would your teacher have to say if I typed it?”

“Oh, Mrs. So-and-so says it’s okay if parents type it…”

I wondered when it was due and if I’d have time to ask Mrs. So-and-so if that was really the case.

“How are you ever going to get good at typing if you don’t practice? Don’t you think you could do it?”

“Mah-ahm, it’d take me – like – a week!”

“Yeah, and I know – I could do it in like five minutes, right? But how do you think I got so good at typing?”

He looked at me blankly.

“It’s because I’ve had years of practice.”

He picked up the ball and ran with it. “Yeah! I’m only 8, and you’re like – 15!”

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My oldest asked me tonight if we could play catch during his younger brother’s Boy Scout den meeting.

“Well, honey, we’re supposed to be building rockets. Don’t you think he’d need my help?”

“Awww, Mom, you know you’re not that good at wood crafts…”

“What!?”

“Well, you know…you’re good at other things, though…”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, like the computer, like being a mom, and…like…baseball! So, can we play catch?”

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