Go Fly a Kite!

Wow! It's been awhile since I've posted...the reason? My husband's parents (otherwise known as 'the in-laws') just left after visiting for two weeks. It was a whirlwind of showing them around the great Commonwealth, including two trips into Boston, picking raspberries at Tougas Farm, seeing the sights at Plymouth Rock and then venturing down to Cape Cod. It was a lot of fun, and a great opportunity to see things that I hadn't yet, or wouldn't necessarily take both kids by myself.

While the visit was great, J worked the majority of the time leaving me to entertain and demonstrate my stellar parenting abilities. J's parents are very involved in their faith, so I was crossing my fingers that the phrase mentioned in this post would not grace H's lips. For the weeks leading up to the visit, I was as pious as a pilgrim in the hopes that I could erase his memory of any phrases that I might have uttered which don't sound great coming from a grown woman, but sound horrible coming from a three year-old boy.

I was starting to breathe easy on the way back from Cape Cod, as it was the last day of their visit, and there had not been a single questionable incident. It had been a long day, filled with a touch tank at the aquarium in Wood's Hole and his very first time flying a kite on the beach.

Jacked up on chocolate milk and Munchkins, he was sitting in the very back of the trusty Freestyle, and it was clear that he was quickly losing steam. Almost out of nowhere he started thrashing around and swinging his head back and forth yelling the dreaded D-word clear as a bell. I yelled his name and pleasantly requested that he never say that again, and he replied "Oh my gooooooooooooosh! Oh my goooooooooooooosh!"

Awesome. Nothing like children to reveal your inadequacies as a parent!