Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Conversations with my 3-year old


I have some of my most random, ridiculous conversations with Nixon. Mostly because I'm still not working and he's my main companion but also because he's got some insane thought processes going on in that precious little head of his. Well, not so little head, thank goddess he wasn't born with the noggin he's got on him now cause that would have totally ripped me a new one! Instead he was kind enough to come out and leave me with one small stitch. Let's hear it for a considerate boy from that start!! 


Last Friday, Nixon woke up and said he wanted a haircut. I tried to convince Mac it was a now-or-never thing but he said we'll do it the next day, no reason to rush. Such a silly, foolish husband I have. He didn't listen to me and the next day Nixon had moved on to his "no haircut" stance, and stood firm. For the entire weekend he held his stance. Mac went to work Monday and the haircut was presumably forgotten. 


Until yesterday. When this happened:

Nixon (after his nap) : Mommy, my hair is sticky
me: Really? Why? 
Nixon: I have too much hair 
me: Should I take you to get a hair cut 
Nixon: Umm...we need to go in the new green car. 
me: You'll get a haircut if we go in my green car? 
Nixon: Yes, but not the blue car only the green car. 
me: Go get your shoes! 

Guess who made the haircut happen today?? THIS mommy, right here!


I was especially proud of Nixon because he sat in the salon waiting for over 30 minutes before he got into the chair. He played with his cars and read a car magazine with me. By read, I mean counted cars by color on a page. When he did get in the chair, he was awesome. He smiled, giggled and told me all the colors of the razor guards he saw. 

On the ride home he says "mommy, my hair is all gone"
me: yep, it sure is. You were awesome too! I am so proud of you
Nixon: mommy, how do the bzzzz's work (Nixonese for clippers)
me: they move very fast and cut the hair as they go over it
Nixon: No mommy, how do they work?
me: I just told you.
Nixon: No mommy, how does it work?
me: How does what work Nixon? I'm driving and can't see what your showing me.
Nixon: how does my smile work?

seriously?!?!? Where does he get this stuff? Most kids do "why?" my kid does "how does it work".

And finally, in the category of paying way too much attention to what Mac does, we have Nixon coming up behind me in the kitchen yesterday and destroying a woman's (aka his mother's) self-esteem. 
I was wearing my loose and comfy jeans with a tee shirt. My jeans were a little low, because I was in the middle of putting together our bookcase and trying to make dinner. I was at the stove stirring dinner and Nixon walks up behind me. He starts pulling my shirt down over my jeans covering up any exposed skin I had. While he was doing this he was telling me "No, mommy, no no no". NO?? What?!?! Oh yeah, my husband does this all the time, telling me to cover my goodies up. Apparently my waist and back are just so sexy that a small glimpse of them will drive someone crazy.
Either that or the stretchmarks are so disturbing that he feels the need to protect the world from seeing them. He claims it's for my own good, but now with Nixon doing it...I feel ugly and very unattractive about the whole thing. 

Fucked up in such a pretty package eh?!?!

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