Eli 8.7Eli 8.7 saw a kid at a table near us at CPK picking his nose. He nudged me, and I grinned at him when I looked over. "Look, Father," he said in his best Oliver Twist voice, "I'm digging for gold!"
Gloria took Eli to a Renaissance Festival in nearby Bastrop a few weekends ago. He was very impressed, and when they got home, he told me all about it. "Dad!" he said. "They had REAL SWORDS, and you could BUY THEM."
"That's very cool," I said. "Fortunately, no one needs a real sword in the house anymore."
"DARN IT!" he said.
I was having a conversation with Eli about negotiating, and I told him that I didn't negotiate much. "I'm pretty much a yes or no person," I said.
A few minutes later, he said, "Dad, when we get home, can we play some NHL?"
"Hmm, I'm not going to commit to that," I said. "Maybe."
"I thought you were a yes or no kind of person?" he asked, laughing.
"Oh, that's right," I said. "No."
He burst out laughing. "Okay, that DID NOT go well for me," he said.
Sometimes I go out with Gloria on the weekends, and we usually come back around the time that Eli 8.7 goes to bed (although the babysitter's adherence to bedtime rules is not stellar). Last weekend, we came home about ten minutes after he theoretically should have been in bed with the lights off.
As I turned the key in the front door, I saw him sprinting down the stairs with his arms raised in the air, celebrating that we were home. My grin was so big that it almost sprained my face.