Little Pitchers, Big Ears, and Tonsils

Just when you are convinced that your kids pay not one whit of attention to what you say (perhaps I shouldn't generalize and just stick with the first person here), they utter a few phrases that dispel that notion and make you feel like Nanny 911 should be paying you a call. . .

Sean was stomping around the other day. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I'm so frustrated."

"Why's that?"

He sighed. "He just doesn't listen to me."

Oh. (I never did find out who "he" was -- it might have been a friend from preschool, but I'm not sure.)

Next: Allie marching down the hall with her hands covering her ears. "What's up?" I inquired.

"My ears are broken!" she replied cheerfully.

I have no idea who would speak to her so sarcastically. No idea at all.

Finally, picture an energetic 4-year-old running in circles around his room. "Watch out, Mommy! I'm getting distracted!"

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Tomorrow's the big day: tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy for Sean. We're going on a little tour of the surgical center today so that Sean can see what will happen beforehand. He confessed yesterday that he was scared about having his tonsils out. I'm sure it will all go fine; I'm more worried about how he'll react when we have to leave him for the surgery than I am about the surgery itself. Poor little guy.

I'll report back on the outcomes over the weekend -- wish us luck!