September 20th, 2009

in motion

in which j has somehow picked up the speech patterns of a 19th-century british urchin

In the morning Jeremiah played Wii for a couple hours while Pär and I slept in.  Then we went out for brunch, wandered through a local town fair, and later on a friend of his came over to play for a couple of hours.  In the Sunday afternoon lull that followed, my son approached me, wearing a bright green cape I'd made him, which he likes to wear around whenever the mood strikes.

"Mama?  I was going to sneak some extra Wii time," he explained, solemnly, "but I decided not to, because I know that when I'm not honest you often get very cross." 

I sucked in my breath, kept my face blank, and refrained from squishing him to a pulp.

"So I have come to you to ask: may I please play some more Wii?"

At this moment, I would give him anything he wanted.  Anything.