Moments ago, I arrived home from work. This morning I had (foolishly) entertained thoughts of taking a nap when I came home. I've been up for the last 44 hours (Hubs. Allergy Season. Snoring. You do the math) and since I promised weeks ago to take Son to the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows release party at the bookstore, I was kind of thinking a nap may be in order. But before I could even get out of the car, Son wrenched the door open and shouted, "THIRTEEN HOURS! THIRTEEN!! Do you know what this means? DO YOU?"
"Uh, does it mean that you're just a little excited?"
"A little? A little? Mom, I've been waiting for this day my whole entire life!"
"Really? Your whole entire life? Wow. That's interesting, because, you know, the world hadn't even heard of Harry Potter until 1997. To spare you the hassle of doing the math, in 1997 you were two years old. And frankly for the next couple of years after that you were far more excited about seeing how many Cheerios you could shove up Daddy's nose before he woke up (the record is 3) than you were with anything to do with Harry Potter."
He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes the way he always does when he contemplates just how sad it is that his mother has such a penchant for remembering the more embarrassing aspects of his infancy. In case I hadn't noticed his disgust he huffed, "Mom? It's a figure of speech, okay? Now could we please get on with things? We've got a LOT to do before tonight."
Thoroughly chastened (okay, maybe not"thoroughly" chastened. It was more like "not at all chastened") I said, "Right. Sorry. Okay, what kind of 'stuff' do we need to do?"
He sighed again no doubt pondering the irony that as a child, he is forced to rely on people so much less intelligent than himself to get things done. Like driving. And paying for stuff. Yes, it's difficult indeed to be a child.
"We need to get some snacks. To keep up our strength."
"Good point. I'm thinking chocolate. You know. In case we get scared by the Dementors again."
"And can we get beef jerky?"
"Ah! A source of protein that requires no preparation and can be consumed without having to put the book down. Very good, Son. I'm impressed."
"Thanks. Also, can we get a flashlight? Or maybe one of those lights you can clip onto the book?"
"Why? I'm sure the store will have lights on. I mean, it's a special occasion and everything. I really think they plan on having at least some of the lights on."
"Mom? For in the car? While we're driving home from the store?" To his credit he refrained from adding, "Like, duh, you tragically clueless woman."
"I see. You do know that reading while driving, while very common in Utah, is still technically against the law, right?"
"Mom. Please. Work with me, here, okay? Okay. Now, we're going to want to make sure all the chores are done today so we can spend tomorrow reading. I've already got mine all finished but if there's anything else you want me to do this weekend can you tell me now so I can get it done?"
My son has commited the pre-meditated and voluntary act of completing his chores without being asked.
I've been waiting for this day my whole entire life.