The Last Word.

Two weeks ago, my son Isaiah demanded that I do a few things while in the car with Zachary and him "from now on." :

1. Not talk on my cell phone, even with an "ear-bug."
2. Not make them listen to NPR with me.
3. Especially not make them listen to "Fresh Air" on NPR . . . .which they giggle at profusely when the host says "I'm your host, Terry Gross"--like she's really gross or something.
4. And since I won't be doing 1 through 3, talk to them instead. (Unless, of course, I want to pop in a DVD and let them watch TV or play on my iPad, which negates 1 through 3 and allows me to do the default "whatever you feel like doing, Mom.")

It's actually worked out quite well so far. First of all, it's a wonderful way to grow your kids' vocabulary and to see what's going on with them. Second of all, it's a great time for bonding. Kind of like the kitchen table, but without the kitchen or the table.

Here is our unabridged conversation that took place on the way home two days ago. Brought to you straight from the back seat of Mommy's thinly veiled attempt at avoiding the mini-van a.k.a. the Volvo SUV (which equally screams "soccer mom" . . .sigh. . .I know, I know.)

Isaiah:  "Hey Mom?"

Me:  "Yes, Poops?"

Isaiah: "Mom, why did you want to be a doctor when you grew up?"

Me:  "Hmmm. I think I wanted to be a doctor because I wanted to help people."

Isaiah:  "But you can help people even if you aren't a doctor."

Me: "Okay, sick people."


Isaiah:  "You don't have to be a doctor to help sick people."


Me: "But you can't tell them what's wrong or give them special medicines if you aren't a doctor."

Isaiah:  "Remember that time when I told you that Zachary had a fever and you said, No he doesn't, and I said, Yes he does? I knew what was wrong with Zachary and I am not even a doctor.

Me: "But you couldn't give him special medicines, though."

Isaiah:  "You couldn't either, Mom. You called our pediatrician, remember?"

Me: "That's because it's not good for me to be you and Zachy's doctor."


Isaiah:  "Then why be a doctor in the first place?"

Me: "Because being a doctor is . . . . cool."

Isaiah: "Well, it's not so cool if you still have to take your kids to the doctor after learning all that stuff."

Silence

Zachary: "Mommy?  I'll be a doctor, okay? Does that make you happy?"

Me: "Zachary, I want you to be what makes you happy. Wait, I mean what makes you happy and gainfully employed enough to live by yourself in your own house and not with me."

Zachary:  "Okay then I don't want to be a doctor I want to be a ninja."

Me:  "Do ninjas get a paycheck?"

Zachary: "Ninja turtles do."

Me: "Cool beans, dude. Works for me."


Silence

Isaiah: (brow furrowed) "You know, Mom. . . .If I were a. . . painter, I would definitely paint my own house. Definitely. Seems like it would be dumb to learn how to be a painter but have to call in another painter to paint. . . .especially if you are real, real busy. "

Me: (in mirror to myself)  "What the . . .?"

Isaiah:  (folds arms and smirks) "That's what I think about that, Mom."

Silence

 (Terry, I don't think you're gross.)

Terry  Gross through my VERY LOUD radio:  "You're listening to Fresh Air, and I'm your host, Terry Gross. . . . "

Well, that's what yo' mama thinks about THAT.