Mombie (Mom + Zombie)

At least once a day, Zachary says or does something that cracks me up.  The kid is a character to say the least.  I’ve called him “Monkey Pants” since he was a tiny babe and the name still fits. 

 

On his seventh birthday, a little over a week ago, he announced his latest plans for when he’s a grown up.  He said, “I’m going to be an actor in the movies.  And then when I’m not doing that, I’ll be that person that decorates and puts furniture in a building after they build it.”

 

The other day, he and I were reading a book together before bed.  In the story it was ten days before Christmas.  Knowing that this would get a reaction from him (because it always does), I said, “Ahhh, no fair!  I want it to be ten days before Christmas!”

 

“MOM!  You ALWAYS want it to be Christmas!”  Then, making a high pitched voice (because apparently that’s how I talk), he teased, “I’m Jenny and I want presents.  Mine, mine mine!”

 

“Hey!” I said.  “I don’t love Christmas just for the presents.  I love the magic of the whole season.  You know, someday, if I die – OK, well, when I die – if I die before you which, sorry, but hopefully I will – everytime Christmas comes around you’ll think about me and how much your mom LOVED Christmas.”

 

“Maybe,” Zach said, “If you’re lucky, you’ll DIE on Christmas! And then…” with a twinkle in his eye, he continued, “Every year on Christmas we can have a funeral party at your grave and we’ll leave presents there, and you’ll be a Mom-Zombie and you’ll be all…” he extended his arms like a zombie and in monotone-zombie voice, said, “Euuuuuuuh, I’m Mom-Zombie and I like my choo-choo train present…”

 

I shook my head, “First of all, I won’t be a Zombie because I’ll be in heaven after I die.  Second of all, I SO would not want a toy train.  Maybe a new purse or something.”

 

These are the kinds of conversations that we have in our house.

This afternoon, Zach came home from school with an “S” on his daily calendar indicating that he had difficulty with “self control.”  (For him, this means, he was talking when others were).  When I asked him what happened today he said, “Well, I just sometimes run all out of goodness, you know?”