Absolutely Bananas: Seattle mom blog

Show me the money (the CJ version)

We’re in the car when CJ says to me, “Mommy, I think I know what I want to do for my job when I grow up.”

“Really?  What?” I’m eager to hear what CJ has come up with.  For the last two years he’s been saying he wants to be a doctor. Which is, you know, fine with me.

CJ nods his head proudly. “I want to work in a grocery store.  Because a lot of people go to grocery stores.”

Not what I expected, but ok… “That’s true,” I say, thinking about why he might have picked this particular career path, “so you would be, erm, providing a helpful service to a lot of people.”

CJ shakes his head.  Providing a service is NOT why he’s chosen this career.  ”I think it’s a good idea because I’d get a lot of MONEY,” he announces.

Right. And yet so very wrong.

“The thing is, CJ, when you’re thinking about a job it’s important to think about what you like to do, not just making money. Because a job is something you have to do every single day, so it better be something you like.  Even if you make a lot of money if you’re doing something you hate, well… it’s just not worth it.”

I pause and then add, “Like for example you really like animals. So maybe you could be a vet.  Or… a zookeeper.”

“A zookeeper!  That could be fun,” CJ pauses and then shakes his head, “but not that many people go to the zoo.  A lot of people go to the grocery store.”

CJ is clearly in this for the money.

“True, but just remember, you want to pick something that you’ll like.”

CJ contemplates for a minute and then says “Maybe I could be a car giver.”

“A car giver?”

“You know… a person where you buy a car.”

“Oh!  A car salesman.”  

“Yeah!  A car salesman! That’d be good.”

“Ok… well you would get to talk to a lot of people. And you get to be around cars.  I think you should reeeeally like cars if you’re going to be a car salesman,” I say.

CJ is quiet for a few minutes and then he says, ”I know!  I will play music and people can throw money at me. I can sit on the sidewalk and play music and people can throw money into a hat!”

Right.

I’m going to remind him of this conversation when he wants me to pay for college.

***

One more thing… GO VOTE NOW! (please?)

Everyone has one

We’re having a picnic on our front porch, CJ, Parker and I. It’s pouring rain again and so I’ve taken matters into my own hands.  We will have a picnic this spring break no matter what!

The thing about hanging out with two five-year-old boys is that talk immediately turns to poop and pee.  Especially when you’re eating.

“Did you know that on Man vs. Wild, Bear Grylls DRINKS PEE?” Parker says.  The boys giggle.  This is sooo funny.

“He eats poop too!” shouts CJ.  

“No he doesn’t,” I say,  ”That would make him sick.  SUPER sick.”

“Oh but he does,” Parker informs me, “He takes elephant dung and squeezes the water out of it and DRINKS it.” 

Maybe it’s the use of the scientific word ‘dung’ that convinces me or maybe it’s the look of absolute certainty on Parker’s face, but somehow I think he’s not making this up.

“Also sometimes he walks around naked.”  Parker has seen a LOT of Man vs. Wild.

“NAKED!” CJ is a fan of this idea.  He giggles and starts pulling off his shirt. “I’m going to be naked!”

“Me too!” Parker announces.

“NONONONONONONO!” I howl.  ”No naked boys!  SIT DOWN and pull your shirts down!”

“Also,” Parker continues, “sometimes you see his BUTT!”

CJ roars with laughter. 

“Well,” I say, “It’s not that big of a deal.  I mean… everyone has one.  Everyone has a butt.”

I’m trying to remove the stigma of nakedness.  While keeping everyone’s clothes ON of course.  But, as usual, my tactic backfires.

“EVERYONE HAS A BUTT!”  the boys are chanting.

Then Parker adds, “And everyone has a P*NIS!”

“Well,” I interrupt, “that’s not entirely…”

but he’s way ahead of me.  ”AND EVERYONE HAS A V*GINA!!”

And all I can do is put my head in my hands as the boys dance around the front porch gleerfully shouting out the good news about our marvelous bodies and the funny parts we have.

Free samples, on sale today!

For most of the summer, CJ has been begging me to let him set up a lemonade stand.

This Sunday I gave in.

“First,” CJ tells me, “We need to make a sign.  Mommy?  How do you spell lemonade?”

After checking the internet to see if it is spelled lemon with an a-i-d or an a-d-e (it’s the latter), I write out LEMONADE in big block letters for CJ to copy.  

“It looks like that,” I say, then start to write on the next line, “Ten… cents…”

“NO! NO NO NO! Mommy STOP!”

I freeze.  ”What?”

“I want it to say ten MILLION dollars,” he announces.  

My son, the budding entrepreneur.

I stifle a giggle.  ”Well CJ,” I say diplomatically, “I kind of don’t think anyone would pay ten MILLION dollars for a cup of lemonade.  That’s probably too expensive.”

CJ contemplates this for a moment and then nods, “Ok.  Just a dollar.”

“How about ten cents?” I suggest.

He agrees.

We call CJ’s friend Parker to see if he’ll partner with CJ in this venture and soon the two boys are set up alongside the sidewalk with a big sign.  I go inside to mix up the lemonade.

“COME TO OUR LEMONADE SERVICE!”  they shout at everyone who comes in range.  Within five minutes they’ve made five dollars, and they don’t even have any lemonade yet.

Hmm, there are POSSIBILITIES here…

We parents set up chairs on the lawn, sip coffee, and watch the show.

A young woman walks down the street and the boys accost her. “LEMONADE SERVICE!  LEMONADE!’  They shout up at her.  The woman nods agreement and the boys surround her, holding out eager hands to collect her money.

This is getting awfully close to a mugging, I whisper to Parker’s mom.

Fortunately the boys are cute and the woman is kind and she doesn’t call for the police.  She collects her sticky glass of lemonade, hands them a dollar, and is on her way.

The next victim customer is a middle-aged woman, who doesn’t have any money. Or so she says.

After she leaves, I tell the boys, “If people don’t have money, you can offer them a FREE SAMPLE.”

“FREE SAMPLE!” shouts CJ, “Yeah!” he knows ALL about free samples from shopping at Costco.  

“LEMONADE SERVICE!  FREE SAMPLE!” they holler, and before long they’ve lured in a young couple with a baby who apparently think the boys are cute.  

Oh the things I could tell them. 

They agree to try a free sample and the boys pour two glasses of lemonade.  After they’ve taken a drink, CJ shouts, “TEN CENTS!” and he and Parker hold out their hands to collect.

“CJ!” I shout, “You can’t make them pay for a free sample!”

Which, it turns out, is a difficult concept to get across to five year olds.  Because they repeatedly use this bait and switch, selling free samples for ten cents.  And I have to give it to them… as a marketing tactic, this works awfully well.

The lemonade stand holds the boys’ attention for a remarkably long time.  But, after a couple of hours, they are climbing trees and wrestling on the ground.  People walk by without being accosted.

Clearly it’s time to close up shop.

Which reminds me, I still have some left-over lemonade.  

Anyone want a FREE SAMPLE?

I’ll sell it to ya for just $10 MILLION dollars.

If only it were so simple

CJ and I are sitting at a local coffee shop watching the passersby and munching on tasty pastries when he reminds me (gently) that I forgot to buy him anything to drink.

Bad mommy!

I pull out my wallet and hand him a $20.  “Take it up to the lady at the counter,” I tell him, “and tell her you want a chocolate milk.”

While carefully keeping my head turned slightly away, I surreptitiously watch the transaction.  The woman behind the counter with the streak of bright pink in her hair is kind and helpful as my little son, with chest puffed up, makes his order.

He’s growing up so fast!

I turn back to my newspaper, so he won’t notice me watching him as he reaches for his chocolate milk.  A moment later he’s at my side.

Excitedly, he thrusts some bills and change into my hand.

“MOMMY!” he exclaims, “Mommy! I got money back!”

“Well yes you did,” I say, stuffing the money back into my wallet.

“Mommy!” CJ tugs at my arm.  “Now daddy doesn’t have to go to work any more!”

If only it were so simple.

X marks the spot. Except when it doesn’t.

This morning CJ captures a little spider in his hands and stores it in a bucket that he covers up with rain boots to keep the spider from escaping.

“I have a PET!” he exclaims in delight.

But, alas, his new pet is a wily little thing, and it escapes.

Never one to give up easily, CJ pulls out his construction paper and markers. I see him on the kitchen floor with his head bent over the paper earnestly drawing.

“Whatcha doing, CJ?” I ask.

“Making a MAP,” he says.

Several minutes later, the map is complete. CJ holds it out in front of him as he follows the dotted line. Past daddy… into the dining room…

“HEY!” he shouts from the living room, “But my spider isn’t HERE!”

I am thoroughly confused. “Huh?” I look at Jay, “Do you know what’s going on?”

He nods. “He made a map to find his lost spider. And then he followed it. Only it didn’t lead to the spider.”

CJ stomps to the table and slaps his map down. “Mommy IT DIDN’T WORK!” he shouts, “HMMPH! That makes me ANGRY!”

So now I have to try and explain to CJ that maps don’t always lead you to where you want to go. Especially when where you want to go is to the location of your escaped pet spider.