Monday, December 14, 2009
My oldest child, and only son, is a bright child. Scratch that. He's actually a "gifted" child. I'll be writing more about what it's like to parent a gifted child at a later date because, trust me, it's not all about just "having a smart kid"...
Anyway, for now, suffice it to say that he's a pretty sharp little cookie with an outstanding memory.
Sometimes that's kind of annoying.
Like when I tell my neighbor that we were at Walmart a couple days ago and he points out, "Actually, it was THREE days, Mama... that's not a couple, that's a few..."
Or when I fix supper and he feels the need to share, "This is NOT what you had on your menu plan" (because, yes, he can read it... in cursive...)
Or when he needs to fill in every.last.detail of my watered-down accounts to my in-laws...
But that's just him.
Yesterday, I made a big deal out of letting him hold on to the gift bag of homemade granola we had made for his bus driver. And, admittedly, I was enjoying his skills as I said, "What does the tag say, Sweetie?"
He read it aloud:
"Miss Erin- Merry Christmas! Love, A."
I was proud!
"Yep!" I said, "Won't Miss Erin be happy?"
Two minutes later, he said, "This granola is for Guy's bus driver."
Hmmm? Come again?
"Sweetie, this is for YOUR bus driver, for Miss Er..."
Karen! KAREN is his driver's name! And I'd written "Erin" in nice bold Sharpie on the pretty, vintage-looking tag I'd attached. Shoot!
I ran down to my car for scissors and a pen and, well, did my best.
Karen was, indeed, happy.
Guy's bus driver? Well, unfortunately, she's out of luck.