I thought I’d left behind the need for crack-of-dawn mental gymnastics when I left law school, and then again when I left the corporate world.
Isn’t one benefit of staying at home with children supposed to be that I don’t have to dig much past the skin of my forehead to function mentally until at least 10:00 a.m.?
Not at my house. Here’s what I had to answer yesterday upon rising and before breakfast was swallowed.
Chip: “Mom, what’s 100 plus 100 plus 50 plus 50?”
Mick: “Hey, Mom. Where are you?”
Chip: “Mom, that’s 200 right? Right?”
Mick: “Hey, Mom. Is my food ready?”
Chip: “Mom. Was I wrong? Is it really 300?”
Mick: “Hey, Mom, where are you? Are you peeing?”
Chip: “Mommy, what’s 150 plus 80?”
Mick: “Hey MOM! Where’s my food?!”
Chip: “Mom, are you as old as 150 plus 80?”
Mick: “Hey, Mom, are you back? I see you!”
Chip: “Mom, if you were as old as 150 plus 40, you would be in heaven! Right? Are you going to go to heaven?”
Mick: “Hey Mom, why do I only have two foods?”
Chip: “Mom, you’re not going to heaven for a long time, right?”
Mick: “Hey Mom, are you mad at me?”
Chip: “Mommy, we’re going outside now, aren’t we?”
And then, we cleared the breakfast dishes, and went outside.
