Out of the Mouths of my Wacky Babes

Got a call from my big guy this afternoon 15 minutes before I was set to leave work. 

Him:  "I'm sick, I think I have a fever, come pick me up NOW!"

Me:  "I've got a few things to do and then I'll ride home and get the car and come get you."

Him:  "You don't care about me...you love your work MORE than your own son!"

Geez!  Following was some boring back and forth conversation about me saying he's just slowing me down.

Let me be clear right now that I absolutely love my kid a ton more than my job (which I love a lot).  But, seriously, it's no contest, kiddo.  You win!


Then...as I was driving out to my dad's with my little guy so we could work on his rockets for an upcoming launch he tells me I could never handle his days at school, not mentally, not physically.

Me:  "Really?  Why do you think that?"

Him:  "There's the football practice, the laps, the sprints, the push-ups, and the classes, history, language arts, [and on and on]."

Me:  "Well, you could never handle my job either."

Him:  "I could, I just wouldn't like the stinky factor and the annoying noise factor."

Me:  "What's stinky, and what's noisy?"

Him:  "You know, poopy diapers.  And you have a lot of toys and equipment that make annoying noises and the kids make noise, too."  (This from my kid who makes annoying noises CONSTANTLY, often unconsciously, and not just from his mouth.)

Me:  "I hardly even notice the stinky diapers any more."  Appalled look from him.  "And I want my students making noise, that's communication."

Him:  "You must have permanent poop lining your nostrils if you don't smell the dirty diapers."

I'm pretty sure this makes me tougher than him and I totally win this argument (if that's what we were having).