James is almost always funny. He especially cracks my mom up. And I think he really TRIES to do it.
For Poppy's birthday last weekend, James spent the night with Cacky and Poppy on Saturday and Sunday night. I called to check on him on Sunday morning and when he answered the phone {note: when HE answered the phone} he said, "Who is this?" Your mama! Good gravy, kid!
We hadn't really decided how long he was going to say so when I asked him if he was coming home Sunday he said, "No. I'm going to stay for four days." I reminded him that he had school and a haircut this week and he said, "It's ok. I'll just grow my hair out long." He seriously has an answer for everything!
He answered the rotary phone that Mom has in her den. A few minutes into our conversation I heard him say, "Are you here? Or here? Are you here? Or here?" I said, "I'm at our house!" Mom picked up and said he couldn't decide where to listen. So he was asking if he needed to listen here? Or here? Kids these days!
Poppy said that to wake them up on Sunday morning he clapped his hands. *Clap, clap!* "Time to get up now!" *Clap, clap!* They thought it was funny. It's often done to me. I don't think it's funny.
When he came home, he came home with a runny nose, cough, and fever. He was pitiful Monday night but has been fine since. Except for the cough and runny nose. But in all honesty, that's par for the course 'round these parts. If you're not throwing up or running a fever, you may as well not complain. I kid, I kid. I'm the biggest hypochondriac in my little family. OF COURSE we complain. Anyway, Cacky called to check on how he was feeling today and when he talked to her he said, "My nose is runny. And I'm sick." He must have said it a dozen times yesterday. Do you feel bad, James? "My nose is runny. And I'm sick." Do you want milk or lemonade? "My nose is runny. And I'm sick." The sky is blue, James. "My nose is runny. And I'm sick."
Speaking of hypochondriacs, I am not the only one in this household. Eddie fusses about me complaining about my ailments all the time, but I just feel like I'm making conversation. APPARENTLY, someone else is also making conversation. James has taken up telling us at random times that his back hurts. And maybe there is something REALLY wrong with him, but I'm assuming he's just using it like I do. What did you do today, Lauren? "Well, we got up and had breakfast. I did a load of laundry and unloaded the dishwasher. We went to storytime at the library. And I have had the worst headache all day." Is it really the worst headache? Obviously not. But it just gets worked right into the conversation. Eddie just ignores it, but not Mr. Backache. When we got to Cacky and Poppy's on Saturday he immediately told them that his back hurts. I can't decide whether to laugh or be scared. {It's an inherited trait. I swear it's not just me. I come from a family of ailment complainers.}
So...there you go. A sprinkling of the funny things James said this past weekend. I'm sure there are more. If Mom calls me to remind me I'll add them in. While I really am not a huge fan of the spend-the-nights (hello, anxiety!), I know that he has fun. It's pretty obvious when he decides that he'll just grow his hair long in order to keep from coming home. Stinker.
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