Let me start off by saying that I think my son is brilliant.
I mean, not many kids would build an entire town out of Jenga blocks.
I tried to explain to him how the game was really played. We had the tower built and everything. We started taking turns pulling out the pieces.
"Mommy. I don't like this game. Can we build a town?" Tommy asked hopefully.
His attention span is basically non-existant. It's why I don't play a lot of games with Tommy. Because it'll start off fun and then ten minutes later Tommy is off making his own rules. When we attempted to play Monopoly junior he was suddenly driving off down the stairs with his car piece.
"This game is more fun!" he shouted at me as he made "vroom vroom" noises.
When he grew bored with Jenga I wasn't surprised.
I told him he could build his town and was it okay if I finished up the laundry then?
But Tommy was already at work taking apart the tower and putting together little buildings.
By the time I was finished with the laundry he called me back in.
"Shut your eyes!" he instructed me, pulling on my arm.
I obeyed and hoped he wouldn't lead me into the wall as he did the last time he had me close my eyes.
("That was an accident!" Tommy said as my face smashed into the wall.)
When he told me to open my eyes I was met with Jenga Town.
Now, even though I think he's incredibly smart, there are times when my jaw drops open at the things he says.
For instance, he walked into the laundry room the other day and announced with a wrinkle of his nose:
"It smells like asshole in here."
Now, in his defense, it didn't smell that great.
We also keep the catbox in there. And it was Tom's day to change it.
We alternate the disgusting job. Because the last time we had a cat, I was stuck doing the catbox and when we decided to get Max, I explained to Tom that we would take turns changing the catbox.
I still have to remind him to do it. And when I do he'll sometimes huff and puff about it.
I sometimes wonder if he's losing the ability to smell. Because sometimes it reeks up to high heaven in there and I'm wondering how he doesn't smell it? I know he walks in there to walk out to the garage. Does he hold his breath?
Or seriously, is he losing his ability to smell?
I doubt it.
Because the second Natalie craps in her diaper, he's all, "The baby pooped!"
Because he doesn't "do" poop diapers.
"I'll gag," he explains to me.
"Tom," I'll say. "You'll go out and risk your life for your country. But you're afraid of a little poop?"
Tom will nod sharply. "Yes. I'll GAG," he'll repeat dramatically and then pull his shirt collar up over his nose until I change Natalie's diaper.
Anyhow, I had to admonish Tommy on using the word asshole. Honestly, where does he come up with these things?
As I was pondering this, I heard Tom's voice from the living room. He was playing MarioParty and he claims that the computer players totally cheat.
"You ASSHOLE!" Tom bellowed.
Remind me to have a talk with him.