Ian's COPS obsession is reaching new proportions. I had to create COPS-free time so that the rest of us don't go berserk. Scott changed the volume settings straight from the control panel on the computer so that Ian can't make us deaf with his violent theme song. I dug out actual head phones instead of just ear buds. If Ian insists on listening to COPS while I'm in the kitchen with him, I make him use the head phones. I can still hear the musical noise, but not to the point where I want to do him bodily harm.
My dear boy loves to act out and pretend that he is a police "occifer". He arrested Beka this afternoon. He grabbed her arms and yanked them behind her back (thank goodness she was prepared otherwise it would have been quite painful) and said in his best authoritative voice, "You're under arrest for public nudity!"
I took advantage of this declaration, telling Ian that answering the door naked is considered public nudity and begged him to stop doing it. Time will tell if these words of wisdom made it past his earwax.
But Ian's COPS obsession is not the subject of my post this evening. It just made a good opener. The subject has to do with something that took place at Julie's house on Saturday afternoon. I was visiting with my sweet friend, Ian of course tagging along, making his presence known through loud laughter, raucous behavior, and torturing the female gender. It was time to leave and Ian and Joey were coming back to my house to play. I was trying to find coats and boots. In the meantime, they kept going out the door, coming in the door. Out, in. Out, in. Slam, bang. Fingers nearly pinched. I couldn't take it anymore and something in me snapped.
"Ian! You little ****! Knock it off!"
Well, am I proud? I think not. Not only had I resorted to name calling, I had used a foul four-letter word to demonstrate my frustration. Ian stopped cold and slowly turned towards me, eyes like a bush baby. And then it happened. He looked at Joey, Joey looked at him, and they erupted into a volcano of guffaws.
"You just said a bad word!" he wheezed, pointing his finger at me.
I'd like to say that I handled his laughter and ridicule well . . . that would be a lie. It just made me more mad. So much so that I repeated the offensive word two more times. Upon arriving home, Ian made sure to tell everyone present what I had said. Whether they were related to us or not.
Later, as I made some lunch for him and Joey, Ian said to me, "Mom, when you said the s word, I saw Satan reaching in and pulling that word out of your heart. Three times!"
I guess it's true. Out of the mouths of babes. Who has words of wisdom now?
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