Of late, T has taken to talking to me more. Whether he is making mock of me, like when we started exercising and he poked me in the belly and said ‘mom you are getting fat too.’ My response was to blame the whole belly thing on him. It was because I carried him for 31 weeks that I am rounded out. He thought that was hilarious. Or when he lets out a really loud fart looks over at me and says ‘mom you might want to move.’ Two seconds before the aroma hits my nose and makes my eyes water.
Yesterday, I was ill. My head didn’t feel right and I was coughing nonstop. I ended up calling in sick and sleeping the whole day. T gets home and we need to run to the store for cat food and drugs so I am able to go to work today. ‘Mom, I have like a really good immune system. I never get sick when you and dad do.’ Now, I have no idea how ill his father has been but I have had a rough year with colds/flus. I look over at him sniffling away, only wanting to go to sleep and crankily tell him it really is all his fault. Him and his grubby little friends all covered in germs. With great disgust he looks over at me and informs me ‘mom my friends and I are not covered in germs. We are clean! We all take baths or showers.’ Not even sure what I can say to that.
On our way to get our hair cut this afternoon I ask the age old question every parent asks, what do you want for supper. T hems and haws and than announces pizza. I am skeptical of this choice because I was sure we had just had it. We finally determined that it was actually last Thursday that I broke down and bought it. T looks at me and states ‘mom if we had pizza the very next day, that would be to soon but it is all good, it is almost a full week later.’ Again how do you argue that?
I love that T is starting to talk to me. Our conversations are wacky and insightful. He doesn’t really believe that I know anything at all, so we tend to spend a lot of time arguing the facts until I pull out the all knowing Google and we google it. We giggle and we laugh, and we enjoy one another’s company during the time that we are together. He will go back to his dad on Sunday and I will miss a full week of laughter and conversations. Until he comes back.
For when he comes back to me, he has a week’s worth of adventures and pent up stories to tell me. He will instruct me and ask me to confirm or deny his facts. And he will most likely pull some numbers out of the air (like 50% of all men will go bald) and I will laugh and argue and giggle and help him to grow. I just hope that I have a few more years of these conversations, before he decides that I am just to uncool to talk to.