September 7, 2006

• Yesterday evening at dinner I was telling Don about the various bits of biological minutiae with which Dmitry was being bludgeoned, leading Dmitry to pause in his enthusiastic munching of the Chicken Enchilda Casserole I'd made for dinner (recipe on the back of Campbell's Chicken Verde soup, and we're quite fond of it) to grimace and protest, "Hey!  I'm eating here!  No talking about disgusting stuff!"

  Don was then heard to mutter, "Inhaling, more like" - referring to the speed with which Dmitry's dinner was disappearing - causing Dmitry to smartly repeat, "Hey!  I'm inhaling here! No talking about disgusting stuff!"  

  After dinner it was time for the textbooks to be hauled out and dumped onto the table, so Dmitry settled down with his geography text and pack ("I wanna try to catch up with Ariel...she's way ahead of me") then looked at me expectantly.

  The biology text and pack were just sitting there, you see.  He cleared his throat before ingratiatingly inquiring if I could help find some of the answers to the questions he'd skipped.  My enthusiasm for such a course of action wasn't much, between thinking he really ought to do it himself (though considering how long it takes him to painstakingly try to find the answers, he might be finished with the first pack (of ten) by Christmas), plus the undeniable fact I finished ninth grade a long time ago, so how come I've got to suffer through it again?

  Upon my pointing out my reasonable reservations, Dmitry fixed me with those soulful, Slavic eyes as he wheedled, "Mother and son quality time?"

  Sigh.  

  The kid's good.

  • 11:24 am
  • 2 Comments