Some nights he is sound asleep. Other nights he sleepily lifts his head and give me a soft peck on the cheek in return. Most nights, however, he is still awake and he presents some of the
Me: "Are the pants I just stepped on clean or dirty."
LS: "I don't know."
Me: (Thinking that they certainly felt folded and not crumpled.) "Why would clean pants be on the floor?"
LS: "Because they fell off the bed when I was putting them away."
I will not relate the rest of the conversation but let is suffice to say that when I walked into my bedroom I looked at my husband and uttered these words "he's your son."
*** And then there was last night when he came out before bed and asked "What is Genocide?" We refused to answer on the grounds that it would keep him up all night.***
Tomorrow I get to be the parent in parent-teacher conferences. I also get to take my son out for lunch. Always an interesting afternoon. (I get to play the teacher part Thursday and Friday.)