Noah went to Sunday school this morning, and I stayed home and worked on cleaning up my home office, doing laundry, and other assorted household chores. I didn't ever eat, and when he got home, we decided to have a picnic in his room. Peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches. Got out the bread, put on the peanutbutter. Got out the jelly -- we debated between types and picked the purple kind.
"Grape jelly, Noah," I told him.
"WHAT?" His response was piercing.
"It's made from grapes" I explained.
"I don't believe you" he replied.
You know, it's hard to argue with that. "How can I convince you that it's true?" I asked.
"You're a freak, Mom."
His father came in a minute later. I repeated the discussion for my husband's benefit. "I don't believe you, Mom," he said. "I only believe Daddy."
His father informed him that it was grape jelly.
"Okay, I don't believe you either."
Clearly we're in cahoots.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment