After a few hours of fishing yesterday Brantley, Lucas and I headed home tired and dirty. Our first order of business was, as always- a tick check. Lucas was used to the drill and readied himself by starting the process without even having to be told.
Strip down. Arms up. Turn around. Spread your cheeks.
However, when we got to the last part Lucas turned back and said with hesitation, “Mom, you said twerking was against the law. I don’t want to go to jail.”
I know what you’re thinking. Hang on. I can explain.
Flashback to three days earlier when Lucas walked into the kitchen and announced, “Dad just showed me how to twerk.”
Brantley spoke up, “No. No. See. No. That’s not how it happened. He thought he knew what twerking was and in an effort to educate him, I showed him a video on YouTube of someone properly twerking.”
“Properly? That’s not ok,” I said. “What on earth? What kind of video did you let him watch?”
“It was just an instructional video. They were wearing pants. I swear. It was totally wholesome and I guarantee it was more benign than what he thought twerking really was.”
I was intrigued. “What did he think it was?”
Brantley rubbed his face. “It’s hard to describe. Lucas, show your Mom what you thought twerking was.”
I immediately regretted my question.
“Ok. Stop! That’s worse! That’s WAY worse! Lucas, where on earth? Never mind. Listen, don’t ever do that again, ok?.”
I could tell the wheels were turning in his seven-year-old brain. “Don’t do which one? The one in the video, or the other one?”
“Don’t do either. Ok. Got it?”
“Becaaaaause it is against the law.”
“What about if I do it in private?” he asked.
“Still illegal in most states.”
Lawd, help me.
Me: “Hey Lucas, see that big mansion right there? Two men live there and they’re married. Cool, huh?”
Lucas: “Do YOU mean to tell ME that they drive THAT brown car?!”
Me: “Umm. I guess so.”
Lucas: “Why in the world would someone buy a BROWN car?! That doesn’t make sense! If I was married to that mansion I would drive a green car and it would be AWESOME. Maybe their parents just gave them that car because they weren’t using it.”
Me: “Okey dokey.”
Lucas: “Hey Mom, did YOU know that at two fifty-eight on June second and 1965 they invented shoes?”
Me: “I did NOT know that.”
Lucas: “Yep. I learned it off the internet. Before then everybody just walked around in their socks. There’s a lot to learn on the internet. You should try it sometime.”
Experts will tell you when trying to pitch a new business, invention, or book proposal that a great elevator speech is crucial. While most don’t require an ACTUAL elevator to get their point across successfully, my five-year-old son, Luke uses the literal eight square feet of space as a way to entrap strangers into awkward conversations of up-close and personal over-sharing.
Here are a few of our recent awkward elevator encounters.
The Getting To Know You… and you and you and you
As the elevator door closes, Luke positions himself in front before turning and addressing everyone.
Hi, I’m Lucas. L-U-C-A-S. This is my mom. She’s name is Lori, of Loripalooza. What’s your names and where do you blog?
The Short Motivational Speech
The elevator stops before we arrive on our floor. A stranger gets on and successfully pushes the button leading them to their floor of choice. Their hard work and determination won’t go unrecognized.
Nailed it! High five, bro!
The Urgent Secret He Needs To Share With Me That Isn’t In A Whisper
Mom, there’s a baby in here and you know I hate babies because they’re stinky and they poop in their diapers and they’re nasty because they crawl around on the floor like bugs, or snakes and they cry so loud, but I’m not going to be rude about it, okay.
Over Sharing With Strangers For No Reason At All
This incident happened recently on vacation and was especially well played by me because I sent Luke down to the pool with his aunt and uncle, sans me.
Hi, I’m Lucas. L-U-C-A-S. These are NOT my parents. This is my mom’s sister, Heather, but you can call her Heather James, and this is uncle Sidney- definitely NOT my father.
De-constructive Criticism Directed At Surly Strangers
We were still on vacation when this little incident went down. Two gentlemen entered the elevator on the ground floor giving me pause that I was without my pepper-spray. My arms were piled high with take-out boxes because Luke had decided he couldn’t behave at the restaurant with Heather James (Side note- her name is not James. We don’t know why he calls her that) and Uncle Sidney. As the elevator doors close, Luke notices the two fellows on the elevator with us and bursts out laughing while slapping his knee.
You guys look ridickerous! Where are your shirts? I can see your nipples! (More laughing, but only from Luke) Mom, look at their nipples. Is that a tattoo on your neck? I hope it comes off. You can’t smoke in here! That’s uh-scusting!
I had no free hand with which to cover his mouth. At long last, the elevator doors opened and I shoved Luke out with my foot. A couple of the to-go boxes landed just outside the elevator and before the doors closed I was able to shout an apology.
I am SO sorry. I think your ink is great. I smoke all the time!
No, you don’t, Mom. I’m telling Dad you pushed me wif your foot.
In closing, if you really want to improve your child’s elevator speech, then try having them use the stairs for a couple of days. It works well, especially when you’re on the seventh floor.
Luke and I took a trip to Greenwood, MS last week to visit Robin O’Bryant and her three girls. As usual, my little Casanova fell hard and fast. His newest love interest was Robin’s youngest, Lady Sadie.
With the big girls at school and Robin needing to run errands, I offered to take Luke and Sadie to lunch. It was our second day in Greenwood and I decided on Steven’s Barbeque- an excellent choice. Luke and Sadie had already chosen a table and when I sat down with our food Luke introduced me to the man at the the next table. “Mom, this is a man we’ve been talking to. We told him that we are cousins and that this is our first REAL date.”
Help me, Jesus.
Later that afternoon with Sadie in her tiara and Luke in his Batman mask, they wed. However, it wouldn’t be long before their marriage had its first hiccup.
Not long after the wedding ceremony they were playing Minecraft in the girl’s room and Luke had a cow. I don’t mean he pitched a fit. I mean while playing the game of Minecraft he had acquired the singular form of “cattle.” This was a problem because Sadie is afraid of cows. She stormed out of the room with tears in her eyes as Luke shouted, “Fine, Sadie! Fine. I’ll get rid of the cow!! What do you want, Sadie? Do you want a pig? Can we AT LEAST HAVE A PIG?!”
Things cooled off after they agreed on obtaining a pig for the most pointless game ever created. Side note- if you know the plot, or point of Minecraft, please get in touch with me.
At dinner that night Sadie spilled Luke’s pink lemonade. She tried to make it up to him by tying his shoes. While he was impressed, the lemonade was something he just couldn’t get past. You can see him here breaking things off.
In a show of poor taste, he tried to immediately get a rebound girl in Sadie’s older sister, Emma.
“You’re my girlfriend, now!” he told Emma.
Emma was not excited and informed him that she already had a boyfriend. This did not deter Luke from laying on the charm. He began pulling up his shirt. “Have you seen my five-year-old belly?”
Robin interjected. “You know it isn’t really nice to date the sister of someone you just broke up with.”
Luke shrugged his shoulders and pointed back and forth between Emma and Sadie. “Eenie. Meenie. Miney. LOVE.”
Similar laughter and antics continued throughout the week, but none as funny as what I witnessed on our last night at the O’Bryant’s. Luke asked Robin’s eldest daughter to connect their iPads so they could all play Minecraft together. She was wearing her bathrobe after having just showered and told him that she would do it as soon as she got dressed. The second she walked out of the room, Sadie stuck her little finger in Luke’s face. There was fire in her eyes and she spoke through gritted teeth.
“If you EVER saw my sister nekkid I would be SO MAD at you!”
For the first time all week, Luke was speechless and I wasn’t about to complain.
Here is your latest installment of Luke-isms, as promised.
It had been a particularly trying day as I attempted to get housework, writing, and Luke business taken care of. It was the kind of day that Brantley received a text message from me saying, “Have fun at the gym after work because when you get home, he’s all YOURS.”
Brantley got home that evening and I headed upstairs to take a bath.
“I just need ten minutes to myself,” I told him.
The tub had no sooner filled and I turned off the water to relax when I heard the door open. A familiar sound followed. It was the sound of Luke dragging his stool slowly across the bathroom floor. He parked it right next to the tub and sat down.
“WHAT are you doing? And where is your Dad? I’m trying to take a bath, Lucas. I just want some privacy.”
“It’s ok, Mom. I’ll just sit here and watch you quietly.”
“No. No. No! Brantley, where are you?” I shouted.
Brantley popped his head in the door. “Luke, leave Mom alone. She’s trying to take a bath.”
“Ok.” Luke said as he hopped off his stool. Then, he stopped. “Oh Mom, just one more fing. I know we’ve talked about this before, but I forgot. What happened to your penis, again?”
“Lucas Payne Wescott, girls don’t have penises…”
He interrupted, “Oh, that’s right. Baginas. Baginas. You have baginas.”
I wished for someone to hold my head under the water until I stopped struggling.
I wasn’t asking for the world. I just wanted ten minutes alone. With my baginas.
Stay tuned for the next installment of Luke-isms where Luke spanks himself as he shouts, “Don’t ask any questions, Mom. Just trust me. I deserve this.”
Luke’s reluctance to start Kindergarten next year has been unwavering.
That is, until recently.
For months, any time the topic of conversation turned to Kindergarten he made sure to interject, “But I’m not going ’til I’m six! You can’t make me go, yet.”
He was less than enthusiastic.
However, when a little boy in his preschool class started talking about how he couldn’t wait “to go to the big school next year” things started to change.
He was getting a positive opinion from one of his own peers and right away I could tell he was warming up to the idea.
A few days later when driving past the school I heard a mumble from the backseat. “Well, they DO have a nice playground.”
Score! The tides were beginning to turn.
It was only a couple of days later that a family friend asked, “So Luke, what are you going to do in Kindergarten next year?”
Without a second thought he answered confidently. “Well, I’ll prob-uhly do some arts and crafts, learn some geography aaaaand do some parkour.”
I decided not to tell him that the county doesn’t have a parkour curriculum in place. I’ll let that responsibility fall on his teacher. God bless her. All I have to do is get him in the door.
Stay tuned for the next edition of Luke-isms when you’ll hear…
I’ve been getting telltale signs over the last week that Luke (5) is raising his expectations of me. This is quite a conundrum because I am proud to be a champion of mediocrity and yet there I am, time and time again, encouraging him to improve on everything he does.