Grady Jay Day

Ok.  I know, it's been awhile since I've written.  Is it because as children get older they get less and less interesting?  That can't be true.  I'm still the idiot parent who yammers on and on about my kids to whoever's unfortunate enough to stand behind me in line at Target.  It's laziness, pure and simple.  I wish I had a better excuse -- I've been putting all my energy into my Fulbright application, it's rush-season for Somali pirates and I can't decide which band of thieves to join, the Jehovah's Witness wouldn't leave -- but I gots nothing.

Back to the kids.  It's been a pretty epic Spring for them, and Grady's had a few "firsts."  It started with the G-man losing his first tooth.  I'm not the parent who tries to yard out a tooth at the first sign of any wiggle (see: Regina); I let those suckers go until they're hanging by a strand of saliva, then casually tug it out.  I love the look on a child's face when he or she loses a first tooth.  It's always, "I lost a tooth!" followed by, "No one told me there would be blood!"  Grady's was the same.  We were just happy he didn't swallow it.  You can sure tell he's a second child by the way the Tooth Fairy responds these days.  Here's a conversation the Tooth Fairy and Regina had the morning after Grady's tooth came out:  R: Did you remember Grady's tooth?  TF: Um. R: How much money do you have?  TF: (digs through pockets) ¢.47.  R: (sigh) Here's a few bucks.  TF: (pretends to dig chonies out of Grady's dresser and hides cash under tooth box)  Me: Hey!  The Tooth Fairy left you some money!

Grady also got to be a Prince for the high school's basketball homecoming.  Princely duties include wearing a tie, hanging out in the weight room for three hours, and crowning the Homecoming King.  The best part was during introductions, the little Prince and Princess got their bio's read.  Delaney, the supercute Princess, wanted to be a Nurse Anesthetist when she grew up.  The crowd was so impressed they literally "ooooh-ed."  Grady wanted to be a cowboy or a Bumblebee Transformer.  Maybe not as high a career aspiration, but still, a pretty good goal.  He didn't get the "oohs" when the announcer said "Bumblebee Transformer," but Grady gave a big fist pump when he heard it and I could see a lot of high school boys thinking, "That's really a job?  I need to go see Regina."

The announcer should have read, "When Grady grows up, he wants to be the next Banksy," because the walls of our home are getting tagged by our little graffiti artist.  There's no detective work involved to find the culprit, he writes his own name.  Our car doors, the windowsills, and several walls all have his little-boy handwriting -- and sometimes a little abstract art included as a bonus -- on them.  The bright side is that we're really noticing an improvement in his penmanship with all the practice.  The downside is, well, obvious.

*Turns to annoyed stranger in line behind me at Target* So, yeah, the kids are great.   Have I told you about Dylan?  Oh, you've got to go wash your cat?  Ok, sure.  I'll catch up with you next time.  And I promise I won't wait three months to yammer on about my kids.