Like most parents, we are perpetually trying to get the kids to engage in dinner conversation. We try to get them to use table manners. We ask them about their day. We talk about our day. That sort of thing.
The other day, J was trying to get N to tell me about his day. “Did you go swimming?” She asked.
Just like his brother did, N has been taking swimming lessons. I haven’t been able to go swimming with them lately, because it seems to always be storming in the evenings. They go during the day, however.
“Yup” he said. This is a real problem at dinner. Since the kids don’t volunteer much information, we sometimes fall into the trap of momma saying “did you do this” and them just answering “yes” to everything.
Momma continued to try, however. “Did you go under?”
He nodded. “Yes, and I said.”
After he said “said” he leaned forward slightly and raised both hands over his head, fists clenched. Then he closed his mouth, squinted his eyes closed, and puffed his cheeks out. As we watched, his face proceeded to turn a not-so-delicate shade of pink.
As best I could tell, he was pantomiming drowning. “Did your momma pull you out?” I asked.
He puffed out the air he’d been holding in, put his hands down, and shook his head mournfully. “No. No.”
“She left you down there?”
A big old grin crawled across his face. “Yup”
How very sad.