Big, Fat, Super Jerk

On Saturday, Little Red Riding Hood (Lillian), her two sidekick woodland creatures (Grady and Dempsey), and I set off for grandmother's house (nanny's).  We were merging onto the forest path (Interstate 895) when the wolf (dump truck driver), tried to eat us alive.  There was swerving and beeping and I'm not sure exactly what I said, but 'jerk' must have been inserted in there somewhere.  I could have said way worse right? I will never live this down.

Lillian's carseat driving tirade... "Mom, why did that big, fat, jerk give you like, this much room?" she wants to know, holding her index finger and thumb only a half an inch apart.  "We should tell nan about that jerk.  She's not going to like it!" Yes, because nanny is very intimidating, she will certainly scare him away with her nanniness.  Lillian apparently got a good look.  "I looked up and he looked down and he sorta had a mean face. That big jerk.  He was old.  Not like me and Dempsey and Grady and you and daddy." So glad she doesn't think I'm old.  "He was being a super, big jerk.  You should call the police!"   We travel farther down the road and she nods to a car on her right, "At least he's not being a jerk."  Another truck comes by "I hope that's not the big jerk."


It had been a long day.  Sean was flying on a trip.  By the time he called at 9am, I had mistakenly thought it was 9pm and way past bedtime.  I called nanny and begged her to let us sleep over.  The night before, Grady had scribbled all over his face with a blue pen and told me,  "Me want that on my face."  I hadn't even bothered to wash it off.  It'll rub off on the pillow I reasoned.  Plus, the soap will just dry out his ornery sweet, two year old skin.  I must have jinxed myself because that morning he scaled our closet shelves to nab my mascara.  Soon after it was all over his face...blending right into the leftover pen marks.  I tried to explain that black and navy blue just don't go together but he just didn't get it.  So much for his fashion school scholarship to FIT.  The rest of the day went something like this.  By noon, Lillian had given birth to our new baby, she and Grady had eaten the last of the gumdrops off the gingerbread house, with Finn lending her big chompers for the gingerbread men. Dempsey climbed into the Christmas tree and was full of sap, the boys dumped over Finn's water bowl and used our floor as a slip and slide, and half the sand from the sandbox was all over the dining room.  Then Lillian invented a new use for the Alpha Omega Elite/Luxe Deluxe 3-In-1 box so she could watch Sponge Bob.  The quality preschool programming that it is.  Grady had some how decoded the lock box on the house for sale in our cul-de-sac and stolen the key,  and I lost Grady at least once in the front yard, only to find him in the shed.  Grady and Lil were arguing because he wouldn't pass her the soccer ball.  Lil complained, "I don't like Grady."  Grady disagreed, "Yes you do like me!"  We have to get to nanny's now!  So maybe I was in a bit of a hurry.  Maybe there wasn't as much merging space on the forest path as I thought. 

Leaving nanny's house the next day we drove by a church and Lillian spots the headstones.  "Mom, what are those places called again?"  I tell her it's a cemetery.  We talk about dead bodies like we talk about poop.  "And everyone will die?"  she asks.  "Even that big jerk?"  Great, my four year old is killing off the big, fat, super jerk.  Not really the Beaver Cleaver upbringing I was hoping for.  But then again I'm not June Cleaver. 

Tonight I'm cooking dinner and hear Lillian from downstairs, "GRADY, PULL UP YOUR PANTS AND PULL UP YOUR DIAPER!" I'm not sure I even want to go look...but I suppose I have to. Grady is in the bathroom...pants down...poopy butt...and a poopy diaper in the trash can. At least he threw it away.  Gotta love that kid, he's obsessed with trash cans, he throws away everything.  Dempsey is standing up, holding onto the toilet bowl, swishing his hand around in the pee and toilet paper that Lil forgot to flush. Who wants to eat?   At least he didn't drink it...well at least from what I can tell.  That is Finn's job after all.  How kind of Dempsey.  I congratulate myself for raising such thoughtful children.  And he's not even a year old yet!  Goooo mom!  They are watching Cars 2, an early Christmas gift from their great aunt and uncle.   Nasty Fransesco is on the screen.  Lil turns to me,  "Mom, is he a jerk?" 

You know what? I think I like that big, fat, super jerk.  He makes me smile.