Lunch. At the picnic table.
Henry: Daaad! Mum says she can't blink, is that true?
I look at my bride. She is smirking.
Me: Of course it's true.
Erin: My parents were so busy, they never had time to teach me.
Jane: You have to learn how to blink?
Erin: Of course! Don't you remember all the hours we worked on that?
Blank stares.
Me: They were so young. They wouldn't remember.
Kids: Wow.
Me: It's kind of like how I can't move my arms above here.
I raise my straightened arms to about 30 degrees.
Me: I think the doctor said I have some sort of bone-shield covering the socket of my shoulder joint.
Henry: You're making this up!
Me: (calmly) Name one time you've seen me raise my arms higher than this.
They think for a moment.
Me: See? You can't name one time.
Henry: Does it hurt?
Me: (shrugging) No. I just can't do it. You learn to live with it.
The conversation fizzles out. The kids run to the yard to play.
Erin is still wearing her smirk.
Erin: Have we crossed some sort of parenting line?
Me: I think, maybe.
3 comments:
Hahaha. I love it.
By the way, I love that you call Erin your bride. :)
In this context, it means co-conspirator.
messing with your kids is kind of like the Power of Greyskull.
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