Lessons for a Supermom

December 1, 2009 stephhwilliams 0 Comments

Lessons for a supermom,” Boy Genius sounded out from the cover of a book.
“Lessons for a supermom?” he repeated, this time questioning either himself or the bookcover.
“What is this ‘lessons for a supermom’?”
“A book.” I couldn’t help myself. No wonder he’s a smart-alec.
“No,” he huffed. “I know that.” Pause. “Why do you have it?”
“Someone gave it to me, I think, for a gift.”
Contemplating for a moment, he asked, “Have you read it?”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, I just haven’t had time I guess.”
“Well, you should.”
The Girl shouted his name as I said “I know … I’ve got lots to read that I just haven’t had time for.” Yep, she got there before me. I looked up to see the hint of a smirk twisted up on his face.
“You need to read it so you’ll be a supermom,” he grinned, clearly satisfied with his delivery.
“She already is,” championed The Girl, in that exasperated tone she takes with Boy Genius when attempting to distance herself as the older and wiser of the two.
Now, whether there’s any truth to her words is neither here nor there, honestly. They are simply another tell-tale example of The Girl’s nature. There have been occasions when I suspected manipulation or “brown-nosing” from her, but this was not one of them. No, this was just a classic example of her trying to shield my feelings from what, in her eyes, would surely be an insensitive attack. From his perspective, he saw an opportunity for humor at the expense of another (me!) and pounced on it. God love him. Thankfully, my feelings are not as fragile as The Girl assumes. From her perspective, though, feelings are to be handled with tender loving care, like a snowglobe double packed in bubble wrap, suspended in styrofoam and painstakingly preserved to live another day. Boy Genius has a history of breaking snowglobes … no, literally, just ask the staff at Kroger.
When I take the time to enjoy The Girl’s sentimentality, I’m more and more thankful that she takes after Bryan. Of course, as her teenage years draw closer I wonder if the wool is being drawn further over my eyes, at what point do I throw caution to the wind and rip it off, or do I really want to at all? Darn it, guess I need to read that book after all.

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