Yesterday was a banner day in our house. Ren discovered he is the best in the whole world, or at least on his bus, at something.
Each afternoon, I head outside to wait for Ren's bus to drop him off. In an effort to foster his independence, I don't walk all the way to the bus stop. Which really, isn't that far. It's one house away. Anyway, I will usually head outdoors 5 or 10 minutes before the bus arrives to delve into a few pages of the book I'm reading. (Just in case you're wondering this week I've been reading 'Let's Pretend This Never Happened: (A Mostly True Memoir) by Jenny Lawson (aka The Bloggess). It's hysterically funny. Seriously. I was laughing before I got through the first page)
The bus pulls up to the corner and Ren comes rambling down the steps onto the sidewalk. Usually he runs to our house, but today he is walking. Since having pneumonia, he is a bit slower.
He comes walking up the driveway and says "hey Mommy, guess what?" I put the book down and ask "What?".
It's at this point I'm expecting him to say 'chicken butt' because this is one of his favorite jokes to pull on me. Instead he says "I found out I'm the best at something today." It's about now that I get a little excited. He's the best at something, oh, I wonder what?
So I ask.
He answered.
I know you're dying to know what he is the best at correct? Well, here it is. Ren discovered he is the best at hand farting. I wish I was joking.
Now, you wonder what hand farting is? Apparently it's when you press the palm of your hand to your mouth and blow raspberries. How do I know? Well, I ask for demonstration folks. Yes I did.
Hey, sometimes figuring out your great at something is big deal. This probably wasn't one of those times, but I made it one anyhow. I posted it on Facebook. I called Grammy. I allowed him to call Chuck and work and share in the fantastic news.
I figured it would backfire.
It didn't.
So, I guess if you have to be good at something, hand farting isn't the worst thing. At least I hope he doesn't try to make a career out of it.
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