Perspectives

Xavier seems very mature for an eight-year-old sometimes ... then again, sometimes not so much.

He has taken to reading Adam's cast-off "Funny Times" magazines (against his mother's somewhat Victorian better judgment -- nothing like having your son ask you to explain a cartoon about a woman who ends up causing all her lovers to have heart attacks), and it turns out that this has proven educational in ways I hadn't expected.

"Those Gawps are hysterical!" he laughed one night. "How stupid do they think we are?"

"Who?" we asked.

"The Gawps!"

"Who?!?"

Impatiently now. "The GAWPS!"

"How do you spell it?"

"G-O-P."

We explained that G.O.P. stood for the Republican party. He pondered this for a minute. "Then why are the cartoonists all Democrats?"


Today I took him to the endocrinologist (everyone there gushed about how cute he was. I told them that was why we were there.) Afterwards, rather than take him to the babysitter's, which was a little out of our way, I took him with me back to the office. While we were there, one of my coworkers, Brad, stopped in to answer some questions I'd emailed him.

When we picked Gwen up today, we were talking about scheduling because both kids have camp but at different times. "Do you want to go to the babysitter's, Gwen, or would you rather come to work with me while you aren't in camp?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"Aw, Gwen, you should go to work with Mom!" Xavier said. "You get to drink all the soda you want, you can draw on the white board, and talk on the phone to Dad. Also, this guy came while I was there, his name was Brad, and he has a nose earring that was so little that at first I thought it was a little silver pimple ..." Yeah, silver pimple -- just the look Brad was going for, I'm sure.

And -- for the record -- I only bought him one can of soda.