#3 earned a private date with the parent of his choice. I was the chosen parent. He picked riding his bike to the local ice cream store. Since it was pouring here, DH and I convinced him I could just drive him (versus riding the bike). This is a bit of the conversation:
#3: Mom....you awa a young mudda wight? (you are a young mother right?)
Mama: Well, that sorta depends. (cause I sure ain't no spring chicken anymore-I am a summer chicken)
#3: Weww, you don't hav wumpy fingas. (Well, you don't have lumpy fingers.)
Mama: Oh, you mean on my knuckles? (and I showed him my hand)
#3: Yeah. (he curls my hand into a ball and touches my knuckles) Tommy's mom-she has wumpy fingas AND white haiw. You don't have white haiw or wumpy fingas so you are a young mudda. It is sowta like dandelions-when they are young, they awa aww fuww of yewwow and when they get old-they are aww white. Muddas are wike dat you know.
Mr. Wisdom strikes again.
Parents are like dandelions. When they are young they are full of color. When they are old they get white. Doesn't that just glamourize aging?
After we got home, he thanked me for taking him on a date and gave me a HUGE hug and kiss. sigh
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