Gender Equality

Given the nature of my last post, this post should be titled Wash Your Mouth Out With Soap: The Sequel.

Ethan's homework last night was to create as many words as possible out of the word "peacock."

Guess the first word on his list?

It made my heart skip to see him printing it in block letters. All earnest, tongue between his teeth in concentration, spelling aloud as he went, "C ... O ... C .... "

Not wanting to call attention as to why this word would be so interesting to his teachers and other students, and possibly, the principal, I tried to be cool in my reaction.

"Um, maybe try another word?"

He was annoyed, "Why?"

"Well ... that is not really a ... um ... word."

Exasperated now, "Yes, it IS a word. It is like a chicken," looking around for support, "Right, Daddy, a C-O-C-K is a special kind of chicken?"

And then I gave up. And told Jeff to handle it. Good parenting.

I am expecting a call from the principal any minute.

Story to come: When Ethan announced to a packed restaurant that his eye hurt "because Daddy poked him in the eye with ... " For real. This was last week.

Actually, that is the story, we had enjoyed a lovely day. We went ice skating and then out to dinner. I had a lobster roll. Ethan had been remarkably well-behaved and pleasant during the meal.

Time to go. We were in a booth, me on one side, boys on the other. Ethan slid over and stood up to exit the booth. As Jeff slid over to exit, he stood up right in front of Ethan, who was hovering close, as he tends to do. As Jeff stood, the pant fly/zipper of his jeans bumped Ethan in the eye.

Ethan yelped, covered his "broken" eye with his hand, started crying and yelled, "DADDY JUST POKED ME IN THE EYE WITH HIS PENIS!!!"

{Crickets ...}

I suspect we might not be welcomed back at that particular dining establishment.