Save the Laughter for After
I love that my children are their own unique persons. I love the way they look at the world. I love the way they make connections and observations about people and ideas. But sometimes...well, many times....I tend to open mouth, insert my fist or my foot or whatever large piece of furniture is in reach, and am humbled greatly by their tender words. For Brian's birthday every year, we typically go out to dinner or engage in a family activity that he would choose to do. Bowling, pizza at Dewey's, steak and Rocky Road ice cream at home. This year we went to Fitz's for root beer floats. As we perused the menu, Max piped up, "Mom, I'll have a quadzilla, please." Ahh...too cute. I laughed. Out loud. It sort of escaped the filter I try so desperately to employ. Max, confused by my response, immediately said, " Mom! Why are you laughing? All I said was, I would like a quadzilla, please." Trying sooo hard not to keep laughing, I repl...