Yesterday, the boys were bouncing on the trampoline playing with some super-sized pillows. I overhear Jman direct Mpants: “You be the pickle. I will be the burger.”
Squeals of laughter.
Taking a random tram ride to the outskirts of Bern, serendipitously finding a playground, climbing in a huge swing with the boys, looking up at the sky as the sun pokes through the clouds.
Jman shouting: “Higher! Higher!” as I pump my legs awkwardly while lying on my back.
Mpants squirms onto my belly and gives me a kiss: “Me love you Mommy!”
“Me love you too.” And I kiss the tops of each of their heads. We lay back in the swing and watch the clouds.
Jman sneaks a cherry tomato from the tray as I am cutting them for the salad and pops it in his mouth.
Two seconds later, he opens the drawer under the sink and spits it into the garbage.
“Blech. Blech. Blech.”
“Something wrong Jo?”
“Tastes like an old snail’s smelly fart!”
So, tonight Jman demands:”Get me a drink!”
I reprimand: “What do you say?”
“CHICKENS OBEY ME!!”
I have created a monster
One night I was talking to Jman before he went to sleep. I was telling him how his brother is really important. And how he is (or will be) his best friend and they will have a lot of great adventures together. And they will need to support each other and confide in one another. And look out for one another.
I said: “He will be your person.”
And Johnny digested that for a moment and replied: “He already is my person. He is my assistant!”
We are driving home in the afternoon. “What would you like for goûter? (snack time)?”
“Cookies!!” Mpants exclaims right off the bat.
“Chocolate eggs!” Exclaims Jman (on a chocolate high from Easter).
“Raspberry purée?” I offer as a solution.
Something between the two demands.
Exactly like their mother, they looooovvvveee all things raspberry. I have been hiding these small pots of raspberry sauce (you know..apple sauce, but with raspberries). I planned to eat them surreptitiously… Myself. But, I hadn’t shopped for quite a few days and was out of alternatives.
“Yayaaaaay! Raspberry purée!” They shout. Excited at the thought.
And I start singing: “Raspberry purée”… To the tune of Prince’s “Raspberry Beret”. And the boys are singing it with me:
“Rasp-berry purée!” We sing at the top of our lungs.
Me: “Haha. Let’s find that song on the Youtube and play it on the radio. You’ll love it!” Thinking that I can stream it to the sound system in the car when I do find it.
Jman: “What’s a radio?”