...You Can’t Take Ethiopia out of the Kid.
Exhibit A: Yesterday morning Noah was mad at Nick and said in a very clear sentence..."You woman...go back to kitchen and cook." Oh yeh...I heard it because I was right there in the kitchen cooking Noah his daily breakfast burrito...with salsa. Nick stopped in his tracks... and stared at me. Zak dropped his DS to his lap... and stared at me. Sam looked up from playing with the cats... and stared at me. They all knew what was coming because at one time or another they too had made that same error in chauvinist pig judgement. Not to worry though, I was kind to Noah and simply told him, spatula waving in hand, if he felt women were that low on the scale of life then I would just stop cooking for him as he didn't need a woman in his life. He got that part. I told him the right choice would be to never say that again in my house. He got that part. I told him those comments are wrong and someday he will get a slap in the face from some beautiful girl if he mutters a comment like that again. He got it. His big brown eyes looked back at me with much regret. He came up soon after and said he was very very sorry. I forgave him...as I wiped the ‘cooked with love’ breakfast burrito crumbs from his cheeks. ; >)
Exhibit B: Last night I stole away and took a bath. I came out calm and relaxed and Noah ambushed me with a hug from no where. He stepped back in despair after hugging me and said, "What happened mama...you grandma", and then he pointed at my chest. I had just got out of the tub and was in my PJ's...without any support if you know what I mean. Yeh...in his book I’ve got the chest of a grandmas. I guess that's ok being that the life expectancy in Ethiopia is 45 or so...so my 'grandma boobs' fit the age. Still, not exactly a sensitive delivery of the news.
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