|Nathan and I when he was 2. I take great pride in my responsibility for his love of mud.|
The conversation began with, "Nathan is telling stories about you." This stopped me short for a minute because I was thinking he'd finally decided to tell him mom I let him jump off of the sofa onto a mattress on the floor when he isn't allowed to jump on the sofa. Then I remembered I sent her a picture message documenting the naughty event, so I let that thought go. Then I assumed I was going to get a story about how the last time I babysat I refused to let him play his video game because he didn't eat his supper. I got this idea because when I told him no for the umpteenth time he could not play and to go sit DOWN, he told me he was telling his Mommy what I did to him.
My actual response: "OK, Nathan. You can do that. But until she gets home I make the decisions."
Response I wanted to use: "That will be fine, Nathan, because she is MY best friend and she is obliged by law to agree with me and support my video game wielding authority."
But the actual story she told me was much better. Apparently, he has taken to telling her stories about me. I find this adorable- the child is interjecting me into his real and pretend life! The fact that the stories have no truth to them means nothing, because in each story I am arriving to save him, ie- Mommy, I was walking in the woods and I hit my head on a tree, but Auntie came and made it all OK." Priceless. This is in addition to a few weeks ago when he told his friend that when his AUNTIE comes over he gets to ride his bike.
That's right, folks, I am cool in the eyes of a four year old. I am ingrained in his world and he loves it. Sometimes, that's really all you need in the world.