Yesterday I did some errands with Mark. It meant the Son of a Baconator for him from the Wendy's drive thru (I am not above enticing my children to accompany me), listening to the guy at the post office grouse about the address I was sending the package to (who's crankier, school secretaries or post office employees?), and the drive thru book drop at the library. (The Orem library. It makes my life worth living.)
I asked Mark while we drove and I stole some of his french fries if he ever set New Year's resolutions. He said he had. Twice. Once he set a resolution to get pro status in tennis on the Wii. He said, "And I did it!" Another goal was not to use his fuzzy blanket during math.
He said, "I didn't do that one."
He explained about how when he was little he used to like to wrap in his blanket but I didn't like it during school. I would make him go put his blanket away.
I remember that. It's hard to hold a pencil when you're wrapped in a blanket.
He said, "I decided since you didn't like it, I'd set a goal that I wouldn't use the blanket during math. But then I did anyway."
I pointed out that now he never wraps in a blanket for math, so there's progress.
I had no idea my little ginger was setting goals to make me happy, even if they turned out to be too much for him. I miss homeschooling that rapscallion. Also, why do little boys have to grow up?
I guess so they can shovel snow and create good playlists for errands. And share their fries with you.