Most days I look at my precocious three year old, Hayden, and think "We got this." Hayden is sweet and smart and very funny. He has a great personality and lots of energy. He's going to grow up to be a wonderful well-rounded man. My husband and I do our best to raise him right and keep a close eye on him.
Sometimes, though, I can't help but wonder just how well we are doing. Hayden's a pretty bright kid, frighteningly so at times, and it makes me think that maybe, just maybe, he just wants us to believe we're raising him to be happy and well-adjusted all the while he's plotting to take over the world like some comic book "evil" genius.
I mean do we ever really know what's going on behind those (seemingly) innocent little eyes?
Case in point: For Valentine's Day I always get Hayden and hubby their own box of chocolates since they are both chocoholics. A little box for Hayden, a big box for hubby. This year I also bought a big box for my Mom.
Hayden was only allowed one piece after he ate a meal. This caused a few issues when he saw that Daddy ate his chocolate whenever he wanted, but we explained that since Daddy always ate his food like he was supposed to, he could eat his chocolate when he wanted.
Saturday afternoon after Valentine's Day, we were lazing around the house, Hayden playing in his room, hubby and I watching TV in the next room. Hayden was pretty quiet that day so I checked on him several times. All parents know when the kids are quiet, they're probably up to something.
Each time I checked, he was just playing quietly with his toys. He'd look up at me with a big smile and say, "Hi, Mommy." Everything was fine.
Later that afternoon, he came into my room with a new shirt on. I asked why he changed his shirt. He said, "I like this shirt." Okay. As long as it was clean and it fit, I had no problem with that. I didn't think much of it, he had gotten to the ripe old age of three where he sometimes liked to pick out his own clothes.
After dinner, I decided to do a little laundry and went to Hayden's room to change the sheets on his bed. As soon as I lifted his mattress, Hayden took off running faster than I've ever seen him move before.
I soon realized why. Beneath his bed was a large box of chocolates. The box I'd bought my mother. The box that had been sitting on the kitchen table with a nice pink card with a cartoon bee on it that said "Bee Mine!"
I picked up the box and opened it to find one lonely chocolate in the center that had somehow escaped being eaten. It was like the final scene from "The Usual Suspects" when you realize what's been happening the whole time right in front of you.
I recalled the day, Hayden playing so quietly in his room barely making a noise, smiling up at me with an innocent "Hi, Mommy" everytime I walked into his room, the new shirt which just happened to be brown, the color of chocolate, and him refusing to eat his dinner (as usual), but not fussing when he didn't get a piece of chocolate after.
It was at that moment I realized that my three year old had completely bamboozled me. I felt like Andy Garcia in "Ocean's Eleven". My three year old, the "evil" genius. My son, the criminal mastermind. And he'd have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for that meddling mother and her need for clean sheets.
He, of course got a spanking. I found him cowering behind his father who had no idea of the drama that had just unfolded. I figure anyone aware enough to hide the evidence knew they were doing wrong, and deserved to face the consequences for it. He also had to apologize to his Grandma for eating her chocolate.
Of course, it was hard for her to keep a straight face while accepting the apology after she'd heard the whole story. In retrospect, I probably should have told her after he'd apologized.
Secretly, though, I applaud the gall and ingenuity to try and pull that off. You gotta hand it to the kid, he definitely had me going for a while. He had eaten all that chocolate without us knowing and without getting a bit of it on him. Hayden can't even eat a slice of cheese without getting it in his hair. (At least that's what he wants us to think.)
Have you had any "my child might grow up to be a criminal mastermind" moments with your little ones?
Sometimes, though, I can't help but wonder just how well we are doing. Hayden's a pretty bright kid, frighteningly so at times, and it makes me think that maybe, just maybe, he just wants us to believe we're raising him to be happy and well-adjusted all the while he's plotting to take over the world like some comic book "evil" genius.
I mean do we ever really know what's going on behind those (seemingly) innocent little eyes?
Case in point: For Valentine's Day I always get Hayden and hubby their own box of chocolates since they are both chocoholics. A little box for Hayden, a big box for hubby. This year I also bought a big box for my Mom.
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| Who wouln't trust a face like that? |
Saturday afternoon after Valentine's Day, we were lazing around the house, Hayden playing in his room, hubby and I watching TV in the next room. Hayden was pretty quiet that day so I checked on him several times. All parents know when the kids are quiet, they're probably up to something.
Each time I checked, he was just playing quietly with his toys. He'd look up at me with a big smile and say, "Hi, Mommy." Everything was fine.
Later that afternoon, he came into my room with a new shirt on. I asked why he changed his shirt. He said, "I like this shirt." Okay. As long as it was clean and it fit, I had no problem with that. I didn't think much of it, he had gotten to the ripe old age of three where he sometimes liked to pick out his own clothes.
After dinner, I decided to do a little laundry and went to Hayden's room to change the sheets on his bed. As soon as I lifted his mattress, Hayden took off running faster than I've ever seen him move before.
I soon realized why. Beneath his bed was a large box of chocolates. The box I'd bought my mother. The box that had been sitting on the kitchen table with a nice pink card with a cartoon bee on it that said "Bee Mine!"
I picked up the box and opened it to find one lonely chocolate in the center that had somehow escaped being eaten. It was like the final scene from "The Usual Suspects" when you realize what's been happening the whole time right in front of you.
I recalled the day, Hayden playing so quietly in his room barely making a noise, smiling up at me with an innocent "Hi, Mommy" everytime I walked into his room, the new shirt which just happened to be brown, the color of chocolate, and him refusing to eat his dinner (as usual), but not fussing when he didn't get a piece of chocolate after.
It was at that moment I realized that my three year old had completely bamboozled me. I felt like Andy Garcia in "Ocean's Eleven". My three year old, the "evil" genius. My son, the criminal mastermind. And he'd have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for that meddling mother and her need for clean sheets.
He, of course got a spanking. I found him cowering behind his father who had no idea of the drama that had just unfolded. I figure anyone aware enough to hide the evidence knew they were doing wrong, and deserved to face the consequences for it. He also had to apologize to his Grandma for eating her chocolate.
Of course, it was hard for her to keep a straight face while accepting the apology after she'd heard the whole story. In retrospect, I probably should have told her after he'd apologized.
Secretly, though, I applaud the gall and ingenuity to try and pull that off. You gotta hand it to the kid, he definitely had me going for a while. He had eaten all that chocolate without us knowing and without getting a bit of it on him. Hayden can't even eat a slice of cheese without getting it in his hair. (At least that's what he wants us to think.)
Have you had any "my child might grow up to be a criminal mastermind" moments with your little ones?
1 comment:
a brown shirt!! that is scary smart.
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