People are always asking me if the boys get along.
Are they kidding?
Of course they get along. It’s in their contract. Right there next to DON’T PEPPER MOMMY WITH QUESTIONS WHEN SHE’S TRYING TO FART OUT A BLOG POST AT THE LAST MINUTE GOD DAMMIT.
Errrrg.
(I got up at 5am, for the second time this week. I settled in at my desk to write and Mawwwwm? …. MAWWWWM?
Are you kidding me? On all other mornings I have to pry you out of bed one toenail at a time, and now Mawwwwwm?
And do you know what urgent question Gus had to ask me? He needed to know whether I like the song ‘Suddenly Seymour’, from Little Shop of Horrors.
Of course I do. It's a good song.)
Anyway. Yes, my kids get along. They play. They laugh at each other’s jokes. They dress up in armor and rainbow wigs and play "Army Clowns." It's great.
Of course there are times.
There are times when Patrick has heard one Justin Bieber refrain too many, and without warning hauls off and punches Gus in the chest.
I try not to find this hilarious. Because hitting is wrong.
(And yet, so right.)
And then there are times when Gus plays the role of Wise Older Brother Providing Unsolicited Counsel, which I also try not to find hilarious. On Sunday afternoon we were driving back from a hike, and I heard Gus say, "Patrick, you’ll never get a girlfriend if you still believe in magic.”
Since “getting a girlfriend” is not exactly topping Patrick’s agenda these days, he didn’t seem too alarmed. So Gus repeated it for emphasis. “I’m serious Patrick. You will NEVER get a girlfriend if you believe in magic.”
“But elves are magic, and so are reindeer,” Patrick said.
Gus let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t mean THAT kind of magic. It’s okay to believe in REAL magic. I’m talking about fake magic. The kind that magicians do.”
Are they kidding?
Of course they get along. It’s in their contract. Right there next to DON’T PEPPER MOMMY WITH QUESTIONS WHEN SHE’S TRYING TO FART OUT A BLOG POST AT THE LAST MINUTE GOD DAMMIT.
Errrrg.
(I got up at 5am, for the second time this week. I settled in at my desk to write and Mawwwwm? …. MAWWWWM?
Are you kidding me? On all other mornings I have to pry you out of bed one toenail at a time, and now Mawwwwwm?
And do you know what urgent question Gus had to ask me? He needed to know whether I like the song ‘Suddenly Seymour’, from Little Shop of Horrors.
Of course I do. It's a good song.)
Anyway. Yes, my kids get along. They play. They laugh at each other’s jokes. They dress up in armor and rainbow wigs and play "Army Clowns." It's great.
Of course there are times.
There are times when Patrick has heard one Justin Bieber refrain too many, and without warning hauls off and punches Gus in the chest.
I try not to find this hilarious. Because hitting is wrong.
(And yet, so right.)
And then there are times when Gus plays the role of Wise Older Brother Providing Unsolicited Counsel, which I also try not to find hilarious. On Sunday afternoon we were driving back from a hike, and I heard Gus say, "Patrick, you’ll never get a girlfriend if you still believe in magic.”
Since “getting a girlfriend” is not exactly topping Patrick’s agenda these days, he didn’t seem too alarmed. So Gus repeated it for emphasis. “I’m serious Patrick. You will NEVER get a girlfriend if you believe in magic.”
“But elves are magic, and so are reindeer,” Patrick said.
Gus let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t mean THAT kind of magic. It’s okay to believe in REAL magic. I’m talking about fake magic. The kind that magicians do.”
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