Millennial-ism

All year long the boys have been waiting for the end of the year school Jog-a-thon.

Today it finally happened, and my middle son joined along, even though he is not in school yet. I counted how many laps he ran, and it was about eight laps in about fifteen minutes or so, which I thought was a good amount for a five year old. After the Jog-a-thon, I told him that I was proud because he ran eight whole laps in such a short amount of time. Instead of receiving my complement, he began insisting to me that he actually ran 20 laps. "You have it wrong, mama", he says. So I asked him, "how do you figure that you ran 20 laps, when I was watching you counting the whole time, and I counted eight?" He replied "I was just running SO fast that I skipped all the other laps all the way to 20."

Congratulations, son, you are officially a millennial!!

The Dishwasher Saga Contines

I am currently hiding in my room as I type this.  I am wondering how long it will take them to find me.  It is 5:42.  

The dishwasher saga continues.  

I never dreamed that little children would like a new dishwasher so very much.  Had we realized this, we might have waited a few months and just gotten them one for Christmas. I would dare say that they are even more fascinated by it than I am. They haven't seem to have left its side for the past several hours, and they have asked me about ten times what each button does. I am not even sure what each button does. But I tell them, "they do what you want them to do, they make beeping noises and start water running and flash little lights." 

This afternoon, I finally had enough dishes to load in the dishwasher and use it for a full cycle to see what kind of magic it would produce. After leaving the kitchen for a few moments to take a pause to check my facebook, (least I miss out on what everyone I have ever known has done in the past twenty minutes), they had opened the washer in the middle of the cycle and dumped a bunch of extra soap in it, just for good measure. Realizing that this might be too much, they were scooping it out of the hole and dumping the excess off onto the floor.  Because that's what you do with excess dishwasher detergent, naturally.  

At the end of the day, my middle child handed me a green cup, and marveled about how well the dishwasher cleaned it. He was truly mesmerized by this machine's remarkable abilities to clean. This was after a fun afternoon of playing with their brand new dunk tank/rocketship that floated to the ceiling (large empty dishwasher box.) So anyway, that's about it for the dishwasher saga, until tomorrow.  I have to go now, for I have been found out.  6:10, and I am being ambushed with a dishtowel. 

How to tell if you are a grown up.

You know you are a grownup when you are giddy about a new dishwasher.

Although, as our dishwasher arrived in a very large box, I realized that our five year old is just as giddy as me.  In fact, as I am thinking about it, he has been telling everyone we run into that our dishwasher makes terrible noises and we need a new one. And yes it has been screeching and yelling at us, and is covered in stickers that won't come off.

So, the poor little guy  has been staring at this box for a full day now, asking over and over when we can put the new dishwasher in. I am sure some of it has to do with the box he will get to play in after, but you know.