Did y’all ever notice how your kids can be complete weirdos, and you think it’s normal at least and adorable at best?
I am sure that for every child with his own bizarre ideas and behaviors, there’s an adoring parent ignoring the fact that those might be shared traits with sociopaths. I got to spend five whole days with my offspring, and let me tell you, it got weirder by the day. I began to think it was par for the course for a child to lock herself in a tiny, dark coat closet to play Angry Birds.
All three of my precious darlings have some questionable habits, and I am sure that if my 25 year old self could time travel to visit me right now, she would be appalled at what her future self accepts as status quo.
For example, Dude has an imaginary friend. He calls her “my grandma.” Anytime I say something he doesn’t like or agree with, he says “Well, my grandma says…” I have a lot of information about this grandma. She lives in a yellow house and has a yellow car because that’s her favorite color. As a matter of fact, everything on planet earth that is yellow actually belongs to Dude’s grandma. He also told me that his grandma knows ALL the potty words, so she’s pretty cool. She has three puppies and very good movies to watch at her house.
I feel like I need to warn every adult he spends time with that “my grandma” is NOT an actual person. His teachers would have serious reservations about Dude’s family if they made that false assumption, and I know we would never be invited on another playdate, ever. No matter how weird this is, the rest of the family has come to accept this imaginary matriarch, and even my girls ask Dude what his grandma thinks about things. We laugh and smile when he talks about her, as though she is real. How far the mighty have fallen.
Bug recently discovered her inner supermodel, and obviously we are having a great time with that. She has enjoyed making faces at herself in a mirror for quite some time, but on fall break, she discovered the fan. In front of the mirror. She turned it on, and began posing in front of the mirror, tossing her hair, even grabbing imaginary glitter out of her pajama pocket to scatter in the wind. She practiced these moves for a long time when she discovered the magic.
Hubby and I watched discreetly and giggled to ourselves about how ridiculous but cute this sideshow was. Seriously. If you saw anyone else doing this, in a public restroom, or at Dude’s grandma’s yellow house, you’d peg them as a narcissist and avoid eye contact.
Lu is starting to become more aware of how other people see her, so she’s limiting the bizarre behaviors. She doesn’t seem to mind rehearsing her self-choreographed dance routine in very crowded public places, however. Complete with twirls and Arabesques. She is a natural dancer, and her moves are pretty amazing, but when she sweeps an elderly man’s leg at the mall during one of the performances, it really is anything but cute.
For a person who is maturing quickly on every other level, this is an out-of-place habit, and for that reason alone, I still think it’s sweet. It is one of the few remaining signs that there’s a little bit of little kid left in there somewhere. I’ll apologize to the elderly guy, and help him retrieve his shopping bags, but I still give Lu a round of applause for those impromptu performances.
I am sure that my children got this trait straight from their mother, who often talks to herself. And answers. Anybody out there kind enough to say that’s adorable?
Overheard in the salon: “I don’t need goat poop, I need BEER!”