Back Home Again in Indiana
This isn’t a real post; it’s just my current favorite Boogs story that I never want to forget so I’m putting it here on the internet to keep it safe and sound for eternity.
When we went up to my parents’ around Christmas, Boogs and my sister started a new little game I like to cry My/Cry. He told her “my banana”, she responded with “my banana”, he came back with a rather witty “no, my banana”, and she then proceeded to fake cry. He found the fake cry hilarious and insisted she do it again and again and again and again. . . . This game took on various iterations with “my banana”, “my Abby”, “my napkin” – basically any object or human he saw or popped into his little head became part of the game. One of his favorites to throw into rotation is “my dada”.
Fast forward to last week when Jesse went to pick him up from school and could hear him crying from the hallway. He walked in the room, and Boogser’s teacher told him that he and his little friend Melanie had just gotten into an argument over whose dada it was. Based on Melanie sitting in the corner reading a book and looking at Boogs like “the hell’s wrong with this kid” as he screamed his head off, it would appear she won. . .and that no one filled Melanie in on how the My/Cry game works. I just hope he realizes this is only one of many arguments he’ll lose to a woman.