Oh my son, how funny he is. So I told you a week or so ago something funny he said well he has not stopped. I have been meaning to write about this for over a week but I came down with a really nasty stomach bug last week and was not up to doing much of anything last week.
So anyway, at the end of two very long weeks of VBS my husband that I love dearly scheduled a lock-in for the student choir. I help him with the student choir so that meant that I had to be there for the lock-in and while I love working with our students the thought of staying up ALL night with a bunch of middle and high school age kids was not all that pleasant. Especially considering that this was coming at the end of two weeks of VBS. But I didn’t really have a say in the matter so I had to go with. So I had to find someone for Buddy to spend the night with that night. My friend Kathy graciously offered to let Buddy stay with them at their house, “as long as he doesn’t mind playing with girl toys.” She has two little girls. Buddy likes her girls and does not mind at all playing with girl toys, just ask his sisters. So it was settled, he was spending the night with them. Kathy is married to Dr. Mark, the kids doctor. So that night Dr. Mark took the kids to McDonald’s for some ice cream. And Buddy tells Dr. Mark that he is allergic to ice cream can he have some french fries instead? He even goes so far as to tell Dr. Mark that he is allergic to both chocolate and vanilla ice cream.
Now my son is NOT allergic to ice cream. He does not really like ice cream. He will eat it every once in while. But usually if we go to McDonald’s for ice cream he will ask for fries. I just thought it was hilarious that he was trying to tell his own doctor that he was allergic to something. I mean I don’t expect Dr. Mark to remember everything about every patient of his but I thought it was funny that Buddy was trying to pull one over on his doctor.
Then two weeks ago at church he tried to tell one of his teachers that he was not allowed to use scissors when she told him to cut something out. He is not allowed to touch scissors at home without me or daddy around because he cuts things he is not supposed to cut, like the hair on his sister’s My Little Ponies or his shirts. But now when I drop him off at class at church I tell him if an adult tells you to use scissors, then it is OK for you to use them.
And see the dimples get him out of so much trouble. All he has to do is smile and no one wants him to be in trouble. One smile from him and my heart melts every time.