Smarty Smart Smarty Pants

Living with Little Monster is always an adventure. I don't know what I'm going to do when Not the Momma returns to sea duty and I'm stuck raising him by myself. It's not that I can't handle him -- it's that I can't keep a straight face when he's naughty. Sometimes I just bust into giggles so terrible I can't stop. Not to mention, he's killing me with what a smart aleck he is.

Our latest conversations have gone something like this:

LM: "Mommy, this BLUE!" He's holding up a black Lego.
Me: "Nooooo"
LM: (in an almost sarcastic tone) "No, it's black."

Repeat that about 40 million more times with different objects and colors. The kid knows his colors, but he thinks its funny to joke about it. He did the same thing what what sounds a bear makes. He used to say "meow!" and then say.. "no.. roar" in the same tones. I'm worried I'm going to send the kid to kindergarten and he's going to have his teacher fooled into believing he's learned nothing in his first five years of life.

Once you get past the smart aleck sarcasm, there's the problem with the kid's imagination and his love for all things superhero. The kid knows the identity of The Flash, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter (although he calls him Dark Knight for some reason), and Green Arrow. His knowledge extends past the tights and capes, though. He knows, that some of the superheroes fly. As such he spends hours each day helping things fly while making a little boy swish sound as he spins in circles until he's dizzy.

Last night we were having a great time as a family. We were sitting on the couch, sipping Frappuccino's, watching Jeopardy while Little monster played on over and around us. Little Monster had a batman action figure (it's not a doll, people). Batman was driving around the couch, and up and down Daddy in his Batmobile. Then, without warning, Little Monster took Batman out of the car, and HURLED him. There was a hollow thud as the poor action figure hit the window and landed on the windowsill behind the couch. Batman was chucked right past Not the Momma's head, mere millimeters away, at a speed which he claimed was approaching the speed of sound. He later told me "I could hear the cape flapping in the BREEZE!" This is when we see proof of how bad things are going to be when Not the Momma isn't around. After hearing the thud, seeing Not the Momma's shocked and startled expression, and then Not the Momma saying "Batman doesn't FLY Little Monster, you're in time-out." I burst into giggles. Uncontrollable, unstoppable giggles.

Then, Not the Momma with a STRAIGHT face, with a serious (and maybe even a bit mean) voice said "Batman does NOT fly!" As Little Monster was wallowing in time out, I began laughing even harder, tears streaming from my eyes, and blanket thrown over my head to keep him from seeing that Mommy has lost it. Because rather than saying "we don't throw things" Not the Momma said "Batman doesn't fly." Would it have been different had it been Green Lantern or Superman? I'm laughing now just thinking about it. Of course, this is probably one of those "you had to be there" moments. The giggling, when I should be disciplining -- that's what's going to get me into trouble someday. We have a strict rule that all superheroes must be aided while flying and are not allowed to fly "solo" in the house in order to protect dogs, TVs, knick-knacks and parental eyeballs. But that doesn't mean that I don't get to laugh a little when I hear the Little Monster swish sound, followed by a thud as his superhero goes hurdling through the air in some unpredictable direction at high speeds. I just have to remember to do it when Little Monster isn't looking.