Pockets

December 5, 2008

Two-Year-Old has a pocket fetish.

I don’t know if you have a child that has one of these.  I didn’t get one until number 8, so maybe you have to be really patient or something.

Or just have weird Pocket Fetish DNA.   It’s real.  I studied it in high school.  Right along with the Big Feet and Thin Hair DNA that I possess.

A few days ago, I noticed a strange sound in the house.  Now, if you have actually ever been to our house, you would understand why that last sentence is quite significant.  The only time that there is no noise in this house for me to actually be able to hear a WEIRD noise  is……..um……..well……..gimme a second. 

Okay.

Never.

Even at 2 a.m. there is noise.  Because when you live in a 1200 square foot house with 10 other people, there is never a time when there is NOT noise.  It could be…..and I’m just pulling this out of the air, you understand……..snoring from the largest member of the house.  Or a toilet flushing.  Or a baby sucking his thumb. 

And let me just say here and now that the cutest sound I have ever heard is when my oldest was brand new and the cheap diapers back then were plastic-y on the outside.  So when she was sleeping in her crib with the monitor laying on the mattress beside her, I would hear her diaper crinkle whenever she moved.  And Yummy Man had to hold me back from running in there EVERY TIME I heard it to lick her all over.

Back to the pocket fetish. 

(You thought I’d forgotten, huh?)

So I heard a strange noise and discovered that it occurred every time 2-Year-Old passed by me.  When I investigated, I discovered that he had about 13 matchbox cars in his pockets and they were clanging against each other whenever he took a step.

Another day I took off his pants to change his diaper and chunks of sidewalk chalk fell out.

Then there was the day that I noticed his jeans were hanging down lower than normal, and when I went to pick him up, I pulled something in my back that will probably never go back again.

Yep.

Rocks.

This past weekend, Yummy Man was outside with the kids and I was in here watching Oprah and eating bon-bons (what ARE bon-bons, anyway???).  Suddenly I heard 2-Year-Old scream like his hair had caught fire and Yummy Man rushed him inside, set him in his crib, had a little chit-chat with him, and calmly walked back out to the living room where I was eating bon-bons and stuff.  I asked him WHAT in the WORLD had happened to 2-Year-Old and he told me that he threw a rather impressive hissy-fit on the front lawn because……

ready?…….

His sippy cup wouldn’t fit into his pocket.

I can’t wait to remind him of this when he’s 32 with a wife, 4 kids, a mortgage, and a job with deadlines. 

It’s gonna be funny to him, isn’t it?

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One Response to “Pockets”

  1. happy geek said

    Hey Allison,
    If you would like people to comment on a post, it’s a good idea to have the comments open on that post.
    Just a thought:)
    No, my kids have yet to act out the 1930’s but that’s because they are still very little. However, I’m sure that it is coming.

    🙂

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