Just before dinner time I'd about had it with my toddlers. I was downstairs talking, or I should say "TRYING" to talk, to my parents about what they wanted to eat. Everytime Mom, Dad or I tried to say something to each other Jono or Carly, usually Jono would interrupt one of us. (Or as my mom likes to say "interruft--I guess that is how I pronounced it at their age.)
Finally Dad and I started interrupting Jono everytime he tried to tell us what he wanted. We kept doing it until we had him exploding with laughter. I'm not sure that was our goal. I think we were trying to frustrate him the way he was frustrating us. At least that was my plan--and maybe we did a little, but not enough because he thought we were hilarious.
Anyway, it seemed like only a minute or so until he was over that and back to his three year old little boy antics that were getting him into trouble again. My dad just looked at me and said, "You know what he's gonna be when he's twelve don't you?" I didn't miss a beat. I looked him square in the eye and said, "You bet I do. He's gonna be YOU! I heard my Grandmother's stories and he's already YOU!"
Frankly, I'm not exactly sure what my Dad had planned to say. I mean, I know the general idea. But, whatever it was it slid right back in his mouth and down his throat and a great big smile crossed his face. He had that knowing glint in his eye because he knew he'd told me one too many stories about his childhood. That's right ladies and gentlemen, his momma didn't tie him to an apple tree for kicks and giggles! Oh you'll have to ask him if you want to know more about that story. Lol!
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