I always wondered how a doting infant-toddler-preschooler-young child could suddenly transform into a kid who is embarrassed by his mother’s very being. But the truth is there really is no transformation. One day the child who thinks you are simply the most beautiful person on earth is suddenly feeling as though he is going to be judged by your appearance.
A scene from last week at breakfast:
Me: “Oscar, guess what? I’m going to be helping out on a committee to raise money for your school!”
Oscar: “That’s cool.”
Me: “It is. There’s a meeting on Wednesday evening, so Grandma and Grandpa will come over and babysit you and your brothers.”
Oscar: “Where is this meeting?”
Me: “It’s at a beautiful vineyard in Portsmouth. It should be really nice.”
Oscar: (suddenly quite concerned): “Ummm, what are you going to wear to the meeting?”
Me: (incredulous that he could possibly care): “I don’t know. I guess whatever I wear to work that day. Why do you ask?”
Oscar: “Well, I know when you come home from work, you like to put on your sweatpants and slippers and be comfortable. You’re not going to wear your sweatpants and slippers, are you?”
Me: “I hadn’t planned on it.”
I’m pretty sure there’s a whole lot I am going to be able to do with this newfound power my sweatpants and slippers apparently have; but for now I think I’ll just scheme (oops, I mean plan).