Monday, April 12, 2010

Monday's with Trot

Before I start this post I want to get across 2 points; I love my youngest son and treasure spending the entire day with him every week.

We go to the library or the park, I pack his lunchbox and we go eat with Ciera one week and Rakes the next. We go uptown and pay our water bill and every time he sweetly asks the little old lady behind the counter "Tan I have some tandy?" and she politely says "I'm sorry, sweetie. I don't have any". And he responds, EVERY TIME, with "Oh Maaaaan."

We laugh and play and in general have a great time.

He also will dump an entire box of crackers on the floor and repeatedly walk in it while I'm folding clothes, get into his sisters room and attempt to take apart her television while I'm washing dishes, and if it wasn't for the chain lock at the top of every exit door we have he'd be halfway down the block tormenting one of our neighbors Shitzu's before I could blink.

What I'm telling you is by the time Rakes and Ciera get home from school and I help them with their homework, get snacks, listen to Rakes tell me about how many times he slid down the slide at recess and Ciera tell me about every detail of her day from the time she got to school until walking in the front door I'm twitching like I've got Tourette's and wondering when in God's name is Ang getting home from work.

Throw in a Red Sox game starting at 4 p.m. and I'm ready for a Vicodin drip and a straight jacket. So against my better judgement I let Ciera take Huey and Louie outside to play on the swing set while I had one eye on the game and one eye on them. You can probably see where this is going.......

About the time Big Papi struck out for what seems like the 127th straight time (Jr and I are attempting to halt this early season slump in it's track with a FB league trade: I'm sending him Paul Konerko and he's sending me Ortiz. Never let it be said that Rich isn't a team player.) and I'm wondering how high your blood pressure can really get Ciera comes in the back door and utters "I can't find Trot".

As a parent there isn't anything more terrifying than not knowing where your child is. I make a point to avoid any news/television shows/books that involve children going missing; I just can't take it. However, Trot is sort of like Gizmo from "Gremlins" and I'm pretty sure he could castrate a stampeding bull on Dianabol but my heart still skipped a beat or two.

We found him 4 houses down under my neighbor's trampoline.

Have you ever tried verbally blasting a 4 year old doing cart wheels with his shorts on backwards and no underwear?

To top it all off? Tomorrow is an off day for the Sox.

If I lived in L.A. I'd have a sitcom by tomorrow afternoon.


Tex said...

I'm telling you if it was 30 years ago and i was writing a blog then, I'd be writing similar stories but the culprit's name would be Josh.
Just wait till he starts school.
Living in a very small community, Josh started 1st grade and rode the bus home as it stopped right in front of the house. no worries Right?
So, I'm outside waiting and the bus doesn't stop....I go waving after it so the driver stops and says Josh wasn't on it.
I call the school immediately and the secretary sends out the SWAT team. No cell phones back then so I either 1. sit there and wait for a return phone call or 2. get in my car.
As I started out the door, the phone rings, secretary says that teacher said Josh was in line getting on the bus...but minor detail is she did not SEE him get on the bus. I hang up, get in my car and take off. I hadn't driven more than 1/2 mile down the road when I see this little boy beebopping on the side of the road, carrying god knows what.

I pull over, he's all smiles "Hi Mommy! I walked home from school like a big boy" So yah, I just got him in, buckled him down and drove to the house. Once we got inside, I tried to calmly explain how he's not technically a big boy yet. And then we proceed to see 'his treasures'. He pulls out a rusted old knife, stones and marbles, sticks, and last but not least
a dead bird
he pulls out a dead bird out of his pocket.
He thought it was cool.
Yah, just wait till Trot starts school. :)

HorshamScouse said...

Thanks again, Ted. In needed the laugh.
//twitching like I've got Tourette's//
What do you mean like I've got Tourette's?

Merritt by Design said...

Oh man, early gray? And Trot looks like the sweetest little thing too. :-)

Ted D said...

A dead bird, Tex? Why? And it's not me I'm worried about when he starts school; it's his poor teacher. ;)

No problem, Scouser. Glad I could help, although I'm gonna get you back for the Tourette's comment.

Merritt? Looks can be deceiving. Trust me.

Redbeard76 said...

It's a scary thing... I've been giving Sierra more and more space now that she's 4 as well, letting her run around the playground more independently (I missed most of her playtime at her birthday party because I was in charge of other stuff but luckily others volunteered to watch the kids). But I couldn't imagine what I'd do if I lost her. Luckily in my favor she doesn't move that quickly, but she gets quiet sometimes and not being able to hear her gets disconcerting.

Ted D said...

Redbeard, it's sort of a fine line right? You've gotta let them explore and grow up but at the same time watch everything they do.

Tex said...

My point with my story was NOT knowing WHERE he was and neither did the teachers. Needless to say, I had to reassure him when he got to be a 'big boy' he could walk home but NOT yet.
the dead bird? He thought it looked cool. WHO the heck knows why?? Why does Trot do the things he does?
yah same thing

Ted D said...

Who the heck knows? And I gotcha on the story; just funning you a little.

Dani said...

Lol you need to compile all your Trot stories in one book and call it Monday's with Trot like Tuesday's with Morrie. You also have to present this book to him one day. Maybe when he has a child of his own lol New York Times Best Seller right there!

Ted D said...

Dani, it's more like a case study for any budding psychiatrists.