I Know You’re Not Talking To Me

Morris’s obsession with nonsense words has not waned.

And doesn’t seem to be letting up. 

The nonsense vocab is multiplying. He’s recently picked up: Idiot, Doofus, and Dope.

And, I must admit it’s getting a little out of hand and somewhat embarrasing. 

It probably doesn’t help that they are staples in my vocablulary.

Silver lining: it could be worse, right? (insert validation here________________).

Sometimes though I really sit back and admire the proper use of the words and correct context. I mean, I’ve always been one to look for the silver lining in situations.

The other day we were checking out at the grocery store:

Me: I can’t believe how slow this line is. Urg.

Morris: What’s taking so long? This is annoying. (can’t you tell he’s my son?)

Me: Well, apparently it’s our lucky day. (quietly)We got behind the one person in the state of California that has not realized banks have a new invention called a debit card and insists on writing a check (my dad holds this title for the state of Georgia). Oh great, and now she can’t find her driver’s license amongst all her Super Lotto quick pick tickets. 

Morris: Mom! It’s all your fault. Why did you get in this dumb line?! (his inner Gemini is warming up and he starts getting louder)

Me: Sorry honey.

Morris: YOU’RE AN IDIOT!!!!!!

WHOA! Freeze frame…..super slow motion….it’s like the re-enactment of the Matrix bullet scene.  All eyes are on me and the prehistoric check writer has stopped filling in the date and raises her eyebrow at me.

Check writer: Does your son always talk to you like that?

Me: Oh, trust me honey, he wasn’t talking to ME.

Was he?


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