It occured to me today that while I blog a lot about fashion (here, here, & here) and the progress of the house (here) I haven't done much on what I am really passionate about, my son, also refered to as "A" on here. I was reading the blog "Surving Motherhood" by Alli (a former a high-heeled wearing, cell phone slinging, Associate Art Director at a national magazine. Now a snot wiper and poop checker to two boys full-time) and after reading her story (here) was reminded of this funny incident when "A" was about 2 or 3.
We had only been in our new house a little over a year and Cam and his friend were hanging out there one day while I was at work and saw a mouse, so like the men (aka overgrown boys) that they are they grabbed a hockey stick and chassed it around the house whacking at it but finally losing it. There day continued on they forgot to tell me about the incident.
The next morning I was standing in a coma state watching the coffee pot brew, one of those morning when you are just waiting until there was a cup full to steal out of the pot when "A" came up to me in his little pj's crying and holding a dead mouse. I didn't really handle it that well and totally screamed like a girl (scared my poor little guy pretty badly too). I appologized for scaring him and said I was sad too that there was a mouse in the house and he said, "No mommy this is Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse is dead.", truly one of those moments when you realize the difference between a 3 year olds mind and that of an adult. Cam was very appologetic for forgetting to mention the mouse thing to me later that day but the damage had already been done. It took us several years and a trip to Disneyland to convince "A" that Mickey Mouse was indeed not dead.
One of my favorite thing about blogging and reading other peoples blogs are those reminders that you are indeed not alone out there.
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