My 11yo was asked to take the dog for a quick walk, since there was a lull in the rain. On the way out the door, he paused to ask what we were having for dinner. “Pasta.”“Oh… is the sauce homemade? And is it chunky?” he asked with about as much disdain as he could without being considered completely insolent.
“Yes, it is…both homemade and chunky. Thanks for asking.”“And it’s delicious,” my husband chimed in.
My 11yo stood there, with a sneer on his face, staring at the sauce.“Remember…you’ll make dinner tomorrow if you complain,” I chidded.
“And you need to take out the dog, please,” his father reminded him.My eldest then turned on his heels and made for the door.
“Quick study, that one.” I said to my husband, as the 11yo went outside.Moments later, the 9yo was summoned into the kitchen to set the table for dinner. “What smells so good?!?” he asked.
“I bet it’s the sauce,” my husband said.“Oh yeah, that’s it!” said the 9yo.
“I was going to guess that it was the cookies I made,” I said.“Nope, it’s the sauce!” he declared, and skipped back out to the living room.
“HE’S the quick study,” my husband said. “The second ones usually are.” My husband being the second child, I’m sure he meant NO disrespect to his OLDER sister.The 9yo must have an especially acute sense of smell too, because there is no way he could smell that sauce; I just took it out of the fridge and it was still partially frozen. I don’t call him “My Little Eddie Haskell” for nothing…