My kiddo is so sweet. Even when he's insulting me.
Yesterday, Henry put his arms around me and told me he was sorry that I "was not feeling so well."
He gave me a squeeze, and then looked up at me with his beautiful, big brown eyes and an innocent smile and said, "Mommy. You are really round. You know that? Really round."
Yow. I couldn't scold him for being rude, because he was sort of stating a fact. And he was doing it so adorably. He, after all, didn't come right out and rudely say, "Geez mom, you're fat." Which is, I'm certain, what he really meant.
I haven't been working out in weeks, most recently because I've been sick but, overall, because it's been awful weather and all I really want to do is nosh on carbs and sleep.
Henry's sweet reminder is my official signal to put down the pastries and slowly walk away. Or even better, run away. Burn more calories that way.
By the way, I was trying to probe a bit into Henry's thoughts about his comment, so I said, "I'm round, huh. How about you? Are you round?"
He looked back up at me with disgust and said, "No. Of course not. I'm skinny. Really skinny."
Well, I think he's perfect, no matter what. But I must say, the delusions start at an early age. Because "skinny" is not exactly a word I've ever used to describe my boy...Mr. 20th percentile for height, 95th percentile for weight.
Yesterday, Henry put his arms around me and told me he was sorry that I "was not feeling so well."
He gave me a squeeze, and then looked up at me with his beautiful, big brown eyes and an innocent smile and said, "Mommy. You are really round. You know that? Really round."
Yow. I couldn't scold him for being rude, because he was sort of stating a fact. And he was doing it so adorably. He, after all, didn't come right out and rudely say, "Geez mom, you're fat." Which is, I'm certain, what he really meant.
I haven't been working out in weeks, most recently because I've been sick but, overall, because it's been awful weather and all I really want to do is nosh on carbs and sleep.
Henry's sweet reminder is my official signal to put down the pastries and slowly walk away. Or even better, run away. Burn more calories that way.
By the way, I was trying to probe a bit into Henry's thoughts about his comment, so I said, "I'm round, huh. How about you? Are you round?"
He looked back up at me with disgust and said, "No. Of course not. I'm skinny. Really skinny."
Well, I think he's perfect, no matter what. But I must say, the delusions start at an early age. Because "skinny" is not exactly a word I've ever used to describe my boy...Mr. 20th percentile for height, 95th percentile for weight.
Comments
2. May we all be as blissfully ignorant of our chub as dear Henry is.