Secrets

Hubba has been really into what he calls 'secrets' lately. Allow me to illustrate.

During dinner one night he asked, "Mom? Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure, Hubba," I answered, leaning in close to hear what he had to say.

And then he whispered, "Get me a drink."

Yesterday I asked Hubba and Curly to please pick the Legos up off of the floor so I could vacuum.

They continued to pull the cushions off of the couch and use them as mini trampolines.

A few minutes later I asked, "Pretty please pick up the Legos?"

Hubba picked up 3 Legos, made them into a gun, pointed it at me and made shooting noises. Curly laughed. Little O looked me square in the eye and said, "NO."

Because bribing is not beneath me, I announced, "If you guys pick up all of the Legos while I finish folding the laundry, I will give you guys ice cream!"

Hubba gave me a look and said, "Wait."

What? Wait?

He leaned over to Curly and began whispering something in her ear. "What are you guys up to?" I asked.

"It's a secret," he replied, obviously annoyed. After a minute or two of this they turned to look at me in unison.

"We will pick up Legos for ice cream... and 2 cookies," Hubba stated.

"WHAT?" I responded. "You can't negotiate with me. Forget it - no ice cream OR cookies, just clean up."

Hubba rolled his eyes. More whispering ensued. Curly looked at me, looked at Hubba, then nodded.

"We gots a secret idea, mom," Hubba announced. "How 'bout YOU just clean up the Legos yourSELF and then WE will just eat ice cream?"

"Is a good se-ket, mom," Curly confirmed.

I beg to differ.

Genius Genes

Last year Coolister wanted to take an AP class at school. His counselor advised him against it. The counselor thought that it was a very difficult class for a sophomore and he should wait.

Did I know anything about AP classes? No. I didn't even know what AP stood for when I was in high school. Most of my classes began with the words "Introduction To". But, no matter. I told the counselor that I know my kid and my kid can take on a challenge like nobody's business. He let him register.

And you know what? Coolister proved me right (and made me proud). At the end of the school year, AP students take a test which covers the subject area of their class. A month or so later they get their test results in the mail. If they pass, they are able to receive college credit.

May I present further proof that Coolister has his dad's penchant for smartness:


If you were like me in high school, you may think AP stands for "Academically Privileged" and have no idea what a score of 5 means. Let me enlighten you (from The College Board website):

AP Exam grades are reported on a 5-point scale as follows:

5 Extremely well qualified
4 Well qualified
3 Qualified
2 Possibly qualified
1 No recommendation

That's right. Coolister is not only qualified for college credit in biology, he is extremely well qualified.

Pardon my mommy-blogger moment as I shout: THAT'S MY BOY!!

Mr. Fix-It

The other morning Hubba yelled to me through the crack beneath my bedroom door, "I am going to fix the gate!"

"Mmmmhmm..." I mumbled, not really listening, hoping for a few more minutes of slumber.

When I finally rolled out of bed and walked into the dining room, there he was.

"I fix-ted the gate, Mom!" he proudly proclaimed. And sure enough, he had.

Baby O mastered the stair descent a month or so ago. Because of this Allen had removed the latch from the gate so Baby O would be free to join his siblings down in the dungeon whenever he so desired. Apparently Hubba did not like this idea.

He found the latch in the kitchen junk drawer, searched out the 2 screws that held it in place, grabbed a screwdriver and put himself to work.

Not too shabby for a four-year-old!

I'm going to let him play in the garage today and see if his know-how is enough to build me some bookshelves with the tools and materials available in there.

(fingers crossed!)

The Case of the Mysterious Black Button

Yesterday All-a-Boy left his math book at school. And he had to have his math book, because if he didn't do his homework he wouldn't get any "Brooks Bucks" from his teacher, and we couldn't have that now, could we?

So we went back to the school to collect his math book. And as we were leaving he said, "Mom, I am curious about an interesting little button in the vicinity of the plaque in the school's front entrance." (He really talks like that - I'm not making this up!) So I said, "Show me." And he did. And as much as the rascal in me wanted to push the button to see what it did, I suggested he ask about it in the front office. So he did.

"What button?" the secretary asked. "There is no black button in the front entrance."

"Yes, it is in the vicinity of the plaque," All-a-Boy answered. We all walked out to investigate.

"So it is." Mrs. Secretary said. "I have worked here for 11 years and I never knew there was a black button there." She asked the other secretary, who had also never seen it, then told All-a-Boy "I will ask someone what it is for and report back to you tomorrow afternoon."

"By the way," All-a-Boy added, "there is one of those black buttons at every doorway in the school."

I wondered how many things I have right in front of me everyday that I don't notice - or take for granted. As I looked a little closer at things today I realized there are more than I care to admit.

All-a-Boy found out today that the mysterious black buttons were an old intercom system built into the school that were never used, so they are now disabled.

I found out that I have a very observant kid - but what's new?

Thanks for changing the world, All-a-Boy - one adult at a time.