Eyes in the Back of her Head
I wish I could take credit for this one…
This past weekend I had a front row seat to a moment of pure brilliance in my wife’s parenting career. I was sitting at the kitchen table at the time, sorting through some papers. She was cooking pancakes on an electric griddle.
Our 6-year old was directly behind her, balancing precariously on the top of a little white plastic stepladder we have. It’s not very tall – only three steps – but the kids are still not allowed to balance on the top.
My wife spoke without turning around. “Get down”
The big guy was so surprised he almost fell. “What?”
“Get down. That’s not safe.”
He steadied himself with his hands and climbed down. “How’d you know?! How’d you know!?”
She turned to look at him. “Mothers have eyes in the back of their heads.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and then she turned back to her cooking. The big guy waited until she was focussed on the cooking again, and then started quietly climbing up the plastic steps. It was an impressive sneak. He moved painfully slowly, and the ladder didn’t creak or rustle or anything.
His mom spoke without turning around. “Get down now.”
“How’d you know? How?”
She flipped the pancakes, still not looking at him. “I already told you.”
I’ll openly admit that at this point, I was having a hard time not applauding. I mean, her delivery of her lines was downright perfect.
“Mo-om,” my son called. “You have to use your eyes in the back of your he-ad! Do I have to get down?”
She still didn’t turn around. ”When I choose to open them, I will.”
“How about now,” the big guy persisted. “How about now? Use your eyes in the back of your head!”
“Get down now,” she said. “I’m not joking.”
He slumped off the steps. “Awww…”
Man, I wish I’d thought of that!