I leave for one week, and my son turns into a twelve-year-old.

Henry: My shoe feels funny.

Me: Do you want to take it off?

Henry (sighing): I'll live.

*

Henry (sniffling): I'm not going to camp anymore. I'm staying in bed until I'm ten.

Me: Let's discuss that tomorrow, shall we?

Henry: Tomorrow I'm going to remember this crying fit. And I’m going to remind you that we agreed I could stay in bed.

Me: Good night.

Henry: Until I'm TEN.

*

Henry's friend Sofia: (nonsensical babbling about something or other)

Henry: What?

Sofia: I know, right?

Henry: I didn't say "WHA??!!!", I said "what."

Someone's been watching The Ten Commandments.

Henry's in a pro-Dad, neutral-on-Mom phase, and I am utterly, completely okay with that. "Only Dad plays right," he tells me, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Oh," I say, and try to look bereft. So I can't sit on the ground and play with guys for hours, is that what you're telling me, son? I have to sit here and read a book or talk on the phone or just NOT PLAY LEGOS while Scott gets all the quality time? I will somehow choke down my disappointment. Somehow.

Scott even won the religion wars. I didn't know we were fighting them, but Henry began and ended the conflict in one devastating blow. Henry and I were talking about his half-Jewish, half-Catholic status, and he asked me, "which one is Dad?" "Jewish," I said, and that was all Henry had to hear. "Then I'm Jewish, too." He kissed me on the cheek. "I love you, but I'm Jewish."

I called the Pope, and we had a good cry over it.

When Scott got home, I told him about our discussion. "What did you decide, Henry?" I prompted.

"That I am a Hebrew," he said, "like my father."

Then Scott muttered something like the metal is ready for the Maker's hand, and they demanded that I set them free, to build their glorious Lego temples to the God of Abraham. Of course I allowed it, for I am a just and benevolent ruler. So it is written, and so it shall be done.

At least it was invisible.

I am inexplicably delighted when my son expresses any displeasure with me. I think it's a combination of surprise that it doesn't overly bother me, and relief that he's (mostly) passed the stage where he just has a fit on the ground while I watch.

This morning I was in full-on nag mode; we were ten minutes late for camp, and I was all GET ON YOUR SHOES and YOU CAN BRING ONLY ONE TOY INTO THE CAR NOT TWELVE and HOLD YOUR LUNCH BAG LET'S GO COME ON C'MON C'MON. Finally, Henry walked out of the house. Just walked out, and stood on the porch, refusing to face me.

"If you don't hold your lunch bag, you're not getting lunch," I said. I am one tough broad. Also I had no free hands to hold the damn thing.

He slammed back into the house. "You're ann-oying me," he said. He glowered.

I tried not to kiss his flushed little pissed-off face. I can't help it! He's cute when he's angry! "I'm being pretty grumpy this morning," I said.

He nodded. "Worst. Mommy. Ever."

"Ever? Does that mean I win an award?"

He thought about this for a minute. "Your award is a bunch of garbage. But it's invisible." He looked me over. "You're holding it right now."

I couldn't help it, I cracked up. He did too. "Stupid mommy," he attempted, then he saw my face, and said, "Just kidding! Not stupid. Only worst."

-----

In other news, there is a new Wonderland post up today. Also, I will be away next week on yet another family vacation, this one with my delightful in-laws, who are much more accepting of my SPF 90,000 usage. Also, did you see my new masthead? The design is courtesy of Scott, who was tired of watching me attempt to use Photoshop, and the tagline is from Henry, who I think meant to say, "You're going to regret this," but I like his version better.

UPDATE: Apparently no one can see my masthead. Yes. Well. I will strive to figure out why.

UPDATE #2: Masthead now visible? Yes?

Trying to piece it together; not sure if I want to.

Driving Home From School

"So what letter are you learning about this week?"

"The letter S."

"S! S like Superman! Like Spring! What other S words did you learn?"

"Sewers."

The Next Day, Because I Can't Leave "Sewers" Alone

"So! What S words did you learn today?"

"Hmm. I can't remember."

"Summer? Shower? Soda? Simple?"

"Wait, I remember! Sacrifice."