My Boys

When Dawson gets off the bus everyday, Dyl, Emma, and I are all anxiously awaiting his arrival. He just bounces in the door, bursting with all the stories of his big day at Kindergarten. Dylan listens in awe and then asks me if he will get to do the same things next year at Kindergarten. Most stories that Dawson tell excite Dyl, but lately they all revolve around girls, and thankfully right now, that just grosses Dylan out. Dawson came home yesterday and said, "Will I be in trouble if I kissed a girl in school today?" I told him no, because I don't want him to not tell me things, already, and then he spilled about how all the girls were chasing him at recess, and he didn't want to make all his girlfriends sad on the bus ride, so he continually blew kisses to them. I figured the poor kid had been punished enough, since his bus ride is approximately 45 minutes, and that is a long time to keep several girlfriends out of tears, and all equally air kissed. Dylan just looked like he had been punched in the guts and he said, "What is wrong with you? I am not doing that when I go to Kindergarten."

This morning as Dawson was getting ready for school, he asked me to do his hair extra special for the Valentines party. I told him he shouldn't even be thinking about kissing any girls, and that maybe he should just give them high fives, or knuckles. Dylan suggested just rolling balls of fire at them, which I agreed would be effective. Dawson just smiled all doe-y eyed and floated off to school, leaving Dylan and I shaking our heads.

When I picked Dylan up from preschool, Ms. Myndi came up to the car and I heard her say, "Alright, I am going to ask your mom if she lets you say that at home." Dylan came right back with, "She does, she lets me say it all the time." She then opened the door and said that another kid told Dylan that he was going to kick him in the leg, to which Dylan retorted, "Well, I will kick your ass."

Of course I don't allow Dylan to say that at home. I can't even imagine where he might have heard that phrase. When Dave came home, I told him the story and he said. "Did you immediately think of that part in A Christmas Story, where the little kid drops the F-Bomb, and blames it on the other kid although, he had heard it a million times from his father?" No. I didn't think of that at all.

This afternoon, Dawson came up to me and said, "I know the Holy Ghost is in our house." I was a little creeped out and asked him how he knew that. He said, "When I was taking care of my clothes upstairs the laundry basket got caught on my neck and just as I was about to cry, the Holy Ghost pushed it off my head." Dylan was excited, he thought it would be a good idea to try and trap the Holy Ghost the next time he tries to help us. My boys are a good combination. Dawson is such a spiritual little guy. He is always suggesting we pray for help to find keys, or whatever I might have misplaced. I am glad to have him around to help me remember the help I have, if I just ask. Dylan is also pretty in tune to the spirit, and he keeps things colorful for me.