Word Definition with Michael

When I picked up Michael recently, sans the girls (Dan was giving them a ride home from his office), he asked to sit in our third row seat — what we call the backy-back.

I said sure, moved his car seat, and got him belted in.

Glancing back as I was driving home, I saw M pick up a can of seltzer water that one of the girls had left in the backy-back cup holder from the weekend and take a sip. I thought, “Ugh.”

“Well, dat was a bad idea,” he declared a moment later.

“Yeah, I bet,” I said.

“It was an accident,” he said.

M does this a lot, says things are accidents when he’s very clearly chosen to do something that doesn’t turn out well. I’m starting to get a little concerned about it, because I don’t want him shrugging off responsibilities for his actions.

“Buddy, I’m not sure you know what that means,” I said. “Do you know what an accident is?”

“Sure. It’s something dat you’re sorry for.”

That would explain a lot.

M at the Children's Museum
Not an accident.

The Hard Way

A friend of our sent us a card with candy in it recently. The candy were those little ‘red hot’ cinnamon candies (which I love).

Flora wanted one of those candies in the worst way.

I tried to warn her.

“That candy is hot,” I said.

“Will it cool off?” she responded.

“Not that kind of hot. It’s spicy.”

She gave me an incredulous look (Flora has quite a repertoire of incredulous looks). “Who would give us spicy candy?” she asked.

I handed over a candy.

She blew on it for a bit, then popped it in her mouth.

A minute or two later, I looked over at her. She was holding the candy in her fingers, a stricken look on her little face.

“I told you,” I said. She looked at me mutely, her expression priceless. Somehow horrified and wondering at the same time.

“Throw it out,” I advised. “And get yourself a drink of cold water.”