My kid and I have been spending a lot of time together since I quit Journalism after 14 years last week.
I should be happier that I am no longer employed, but there are those pesky things called bills that need to be paid.
Despite worrying about bills and trying to find ways to pay them, I have been having fun with my almost-5-year old, though not as much fun with his mouth.
I have no idea where my kid gets his snarky little attitude–it can’t be from his parents.
Last week I told him there was a show I didn’t like him watching.
“I don’t mind,” he said.
“No? Well, I do,” I shot back.
Without missing a beat my kid fired his own shot back at me. “Then don’t watch it.”
This weekend we drove through Wendy’s drive through and while paying for our food my kid asked of the woman waiting on us, ” Is that a man or a woman?”
“What?” I asked. “Jonathan, that is rude.”
Luckily the window was closed and she couldn’t hear the conversation.
“What?!” he tipped his head, put up his little arms and shook his head,
“I couldn’t tell,” he said.
Today in the car he told me he was warm, so I turned on the air.
“I can’t feel it,” he said, sounding exasperated.
I turned it up and tilted the vent toward him.
I told him I tilted it.
“Yeah? I still can’t feel it,” he said.
Good Lord, he really is my child!