Every night at bedtime, my son decides to wax philosophical. Just before I leave to shut the light off, he has an uncontrollable urge to communicate something absolutely urgent. These bedtimes musings are also commonly referred to as "stalling." He attempts to educate me on trivia from the Guiness Book of World Records or facts from Animal Planet. In these precious moments before slumber, he's also confessed many things, like something he got in trouble for at school or who he intends to marry. Last night, he informed me that he is trying to create the world's largest masking tape ball so he can be featured in next year's Record Book. He worked on it for a solid two hours today.
Tonight's stall tactic takes the cake.
"Mom, can you PLEASE tell me all the body parts of a chicken."
"You know, a chicken. A rooster. The kind of animal that pecks at stuff on the ground."
"Well. There are feathers, wings, legs, breasts.....extra crispy or plain old Coronel's Recipe."
Unimpressed by my feeble attempts at humor, he rolled his eyes and said, "You don't even know the body parts of a chicken? Did you ever go to first grade? Roosters have a Wattle and a Comb...."
I was unaware that First Grade was the year one learned about the anatomy of a chicken or that I would one day be asked to recall said body parts. Instead of reciting a laundry list of exciting animal facts, I tackled him, and kissed him 50 or so times on the neck. He accepted this as a viable substitute.
Caleb, someday when you are grown, I will remember the night you asked me to name the body parts of a chicken and laugh just as hard as I did tonight.