“Will I die if I wear my swim goggles all day?” Hmmm. Well, I didn’t want him to continue to wear his swim goggles, after all, we’d been home from the pool for about 2 hours. I guess it didn’t really matter that he had what looked like permanently imbedded marks around his eyes from those goggles, or that he was talking funny because they kind of pinched around his nose, or that they were fogged up and he had to keep tilting his head backwards to see out of them, not the safest way to ascend and descend the stairs. But would he die? No, I think not. I didn’t want to scare him, but I didn’t want him to live in his swim goggles either. So, I settled on the truth. Sort of. No, he wouldn’t die, but he would get a really bad headache if he hit hour 3 in the goggles. ‘Really?’ He wondered. “It’s possible,” I said. Okay, it might not even be probable, but it did get the darn things off his face. After all, nobody wants to die in swim goggles.
“What? That’s not okay anymore?” He asked me when I look at him incredulously as he wiped his hands and his mouth on my kitchen curtains. First of all, ANYMORE? When was it ever okay to wipe his hands and his mouth on the kitchen curtains? Does he do it all the time and I just never caught him doing it before? Or worse, has he ever done it at my mother-in-law’s house? Second, how did it ever occur to him to do it in first place? Did his father show him this trick? A friend? He claims innocence. He claims no one taught him to be so clever, he came up with it all on his own. Third, he thinks it’s clever. Well, I suppose it does save on the cost of paper towels and napkins.
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