0 comment Tuesday, July 8, 2014 | admin
Is it just me? I've got a post ready to go . . . except I can't upload any photos.
In the frustrating interim, here's this nearly 2-year-old oldie:
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Verklemption and Redemption
He tied knot after knot in it, for at least an hour or so, when suddenly, without warning, Mr. M used his new jump rope to take me into custody.
Mr. M: "Mam, turn off your computer and put your hands behind your back!" (I complied.) "You are under arrest and I'm taking you into custody."
Me: "But why? What did I do wrong? I want to speak to my lawyer, Leigh, right now. Get her on the phone."
Mr. M: "Hold on a minute, mam. I need to check your i.d.," he said, as he fished an imaginary one out of my pretend pocket and examined it. "You are Leigh."
Me: "Yeah, well, get me on the phone. I need to talk to myself."
Sergeant M: "Well you can't right now. Do you understand?"
After being fitted with a "tracking device" (ever the sophisticate, Mr. M had a black plastic porcupine ring in his pocket for just this purpose. Note to self: when do these never-seen-before, peculiar toys manage to penetrate my household?) I was unceremoniously hauled up the stairs in my jump-rope chains. Throughout my ordeal, Mr. M gave a running narrative to his superiors about the particulars of his arrestee.
Using the plastic jump-rope handle as his walkee-talkee, he broadcast, "Repeat. I repeat. Female in custody. Purple shirt. Pajama pants with flowers. No shoes. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. And a little black on the top of her head."
Me (feeling a bit verklempt, and beginning to resist this arrest): "Whoa. Just a minute, sergeant. A 'little black' on the top of my head? What's black on the top of my head?"
Mr. M (briefly going out of character): "Don't worry, Mom. It's just the shade of your hair, right on the top. It's darker than the rest of your hair. Don't worry."
f@#$%$#@ & %*!@#!
A little while later though, Mr. M, in a most unknowing and non-deliberate fashion, redeemed himself.
"Mom, you know those things that have long cords and they have different colors at the ends and they hook up to cars? You pump them and they, like, give cars power? (I'm nodding no, no clue.) They have spikey things on them and you squeeze them. You squeeze them really hard onto the cars. (Now I'm beyond baffled.) Mom! Come on. You know this! You squeeze them and one car gets connected to another car so the other car has power, so it can start!"
"Oh. Oh!" It finally dawned on me. "Jumper cables!"
Mr. M: "Right! Like you and me. We're jumper cables." Then he circled my wrists with his little hands. "See. We're connected now and you're getting my love."
Posted by A Lawyer Mom's Musings at Wednesday, October 22, 2008
In the frustrating interim, here's this nearly 2-year-old oldie:
____________________________________________________________________
Verklemption and Redemption
He tied knot after knot in it, for at least an hour or so, when suddenly, without warning, Mr. M used his new jump rope to take me into custody. Mr. M: "Mam, turn off your computer and put your hands behind your back!" (I complied.) "You are under arrest and I'm taking you into custody."
Me: "But why? What did I do wrong? I want to speak to my lawyer, Leigh, right now. Get her on the phone."
Mr. M: "Hold on a minute, mam. I need to check your i.d.," he said, as he fished an imaginary one out of my pretend pocket and examined it. "You are Leigh."Me: "Yeah, well, get me on the phone. I need to talk to myself."
Sergeant M: "Well you can't right now. Do you understand?"
After being fitted with a "tracking device" (ever the sophisticate, Mr. M had a black plastic porcupine ring in his pocket for just this purpose. Note to self: when do these never-seen-before, peculiar toys manage to penetrate my household?) I was unceremoniously hauled up the stairs in my jump-rope chains. Throughout my ordeal, Mr. M gave a running narrative to his superiors about the particulars of his arrestee.Using the plastic jump-rope handle as his walkee-talkee, he broadcast, "Repeat. I repeat. Female in custody. Purple shirt. Pajama pants with flowers. No shoes. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. And a little black on the top of her head."
Me (feeling a bit verklempt, and beginning to resist this arrest): "Whoa. Just a minute, sergeant. A 'little black' on the top of my head? What's black on the top of my head?"Mr. M (briefly going out of character): "Don't worry, Mom. It's just the shade of your hair, right on the top. It's darker than the rest of your hair. Don't worry."
f@#$%$#@ & %*!@#!
A little while later though, Mr. M, in a most unknowing and non-deliberate fashion, redeemed himself.
"Mom, you know those things that have long cords and they have different colors at the ends and they hook up to cars? You pump them and they, like, give cars power? (I'm nodding no, no clue.) They have spikey things on them and you squeeze them. You squeeze them really hard onto the cars. (Now I'm beyond baffled.) Mom! Come on. You know this! You squeeze them and one car gets connected to another car so the other car has power, so it can start!""Oh. Oh!" It finally dawned on me. "Jumper cables!"
Mr. M: "Right! Like you and me. We're jumper cables." Then he circled my wrists with his little hands. "See. We're connected now and you're getting my love."Posted by A Lawyer Mom's Musings at Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Labels: Crazy Boys, Mothers In Custody, Mothers With Roots, Playing Police