$#!* My Son Says

Here’s one from the archives, when Cameron was six, September 2008. Back when he felt remorse for doing naughty things. Unlike lately.

So yesterday Barry came home with the kids from daycare, all was normal, David and Justin were outside, Alex was walking around with an apple he’d picked from the apple orchard earlier in the day.  Cameron was heading into my room to get something, and suddenly stopped as if he’d just remembered something, put his hands on the clothes hamper at the end of the hall, leaned over it a little bit, and then said quite audibly, “SHHIT!!”

I said, “WHAT did you just say???!!!”  He started to say something about forgetting something. I repeated, “WHAT did you just say???”  I walked toward him, and he fled into my room. I quietly pulled him out, and stuck him in the corner.  He just burst into these sad, sad tears, sobbed with no noise coming out, and just sat there.  I turned around because I was trying not to laugh.  It was so obvious that even HE was shocked by what he’d just said.

So after a few minutes, and eliciting a promise out of him not to do it again, he was still in tears. He wouldn’t get up.  It took five minutes to convince him that it was all over, that I wasn’t mad anymore, and that I just didn’t want to hear him say it again.  The “shit” was because he was supposed to bring my camera home from Karen’s (who borrowed it to take pictures at the apple orchard), and he forgot.  I kept trying to tell him that it wasn’t a big deal, we’d get it tomorrow, but he was SO upset.

Later on after I put Alex to bed, I noticed that, “Teddy,” the little dog Cameron sleeps with, was sitting with his face right up against the corner of the closed bathroom door.  I thought it just randomly ended up there, and said, “Cameron, I think Teddy is trying to get in the bathroom.”  Cameron said, “No, I put him in a time out for sayin’ the “a” word.”  Teddy stayed in his time out for a long time. Pretty soon Cameron said that Teddy was in trouble again for sneaking out of his time out. He asked me if I thought he’d spent enough time in there. I told him that I thought poor Teddy had probably been punished sufficiently.

© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2011

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