Biscuit's practice

Biscuit has a couple of piano competitions coming up, so he's prac- prac- practicing!

Mama always said my face turned red when I would make a mistake when I was playing. I'd be sitting up there at the piano during a church service, hit a wrong note and feel my face get SO hot.

Mama said, "Nobody would know you messed up half the time if you could keep your face from turning red."

I couldn't stop it.

When Biscuit makes a mistake, he always wants to stop and start over. But at the competitions, you can't start over. You just have to keep playing.

He's been doing better with it, but unlike me, when he messes up, his face shows nothing.

I shot a couple of videos of him practicing. He couldn't find the end of the second song, and when he got done, I said, "Do you want to do it again?"

And he said, "Well, I'm kind of embarrassed."

Which I KNEW he would say.

And I told him I would make sure to let everybody know he is still working on the songs and doesn't have them perfected yet.

So with that in mind, here's Biscuit.

 

Bring your son to work day

Jeff had asked Biscuit if he'd ever like to go to one of the college basketball games he had to cover. Biscuit said he'd like to go sometime, but he never would give Jeff a definite yes.

I think Biscuit just didn't know what to expect. He's been to baseball games and football games, but he's never been to basketball, except for my 13-year-old nephew's middle school team. And college games are a bit different, as you know.

Biscuit finally said he'd like to go with Jeff to a game, so Jeff looked at the schedule and picked a Saturday night.

Everyone makes comments about how they'd like to attend games for a living. But they don't know what all is involved. Jeff has to arrive at least an hour before the game to get all the info he'll need — game notes, programs, roster and other stuff.

During the game, he has to write constant updates on social media. Then after the game, he has to write a story about the game — sometimes two different versions of the story: one to post on the website and on for print.

By the time he does the pre-game and post-game work, he's pretty much worked an entire shift.

So Jeff told Biscuit that they would be sitting on press row, which is right beside the court. And because they were there representing the newspaper, they had to be completely objective. So Jeff explained to Biscuit that no matter how he felt about what was happening on the court, he couldn't cheer for either team.

Luckily, Biscuit understood and although Jeff said Biscuit's head was on a swivel throughout the whole game, he didn't cheer. He just soaked in everything that was happening in the gym.

After the game, the coach walked over to Jeff to do a post-game interview. After he got what he needed from the coach, he introduced Biscuit to him.

Biscuit shook his hand, and the coach asked how he liked the game.

"It was good," Biscuit said, "but Dad told me that I couldn't cheer when I was sitting on press row. But don't worry, I was cheering for your team in my head."

I'm pretty sure the coach liked our boy.

Working his brain

I like it when I can just see Biscuit's brain churning. When he's trying to process something, you can see his eyes moving around, and he makes funny movements with his mouth.

I saw it the other night as he and I watched a show I had recorded for us.

The show is hosted by a guy who used to be in the British special forces. He plans an outing for various celebrities that includes rappelling off of cliffs and swimming through icy lakes and eating weird stuff like grubs or small rodents.

They spend the night out in the wild, and they have those personal video camera on all the time so you can see what they're doing and see their reactions to what's going on.

In the episode we watched the other night, the survival expert and the celebrity rappelled down this sheer cliff in Wales, right down onto big rocks at the edge of the ocean.

As they start to walk across the rocks, the survival expert looks down and sees a jellyfish. And I think to myself, "Well, there's their dinner."

And I was right.

The survival expert explained that they couldn't eat the tentacles, but they could eat the body. So he took a cloth out of his backpack and picked up the jellyfish.

He was trying to turn it over to see if it was alive or dead, and as soon as he flipped it, the jellyfish flopped out of his hand, stinging him in the process.

I've seen this guy get knocked around out in the wild, but you could tell that the jellyfish sting really hurt him.

They're out in the middle of nowhere, so they can run to the drugstore to pick up some medicine. That's when he started talking about an old-fashioned way to take the sting out of a jellyfish injury.

Pee.

Then he admitted that he had just peed, so he didn't have any left. So the celebrity lady said, "I can pee on it for you."

Biscuit looked up and said, "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Can you pause that?"

He said there for a minute, moving his hand around, trying to form his question. I could tell he was trying to process what he had heard.

"Okay," he said. "What I don't understand is ... I mean ... How did ... okay, so who was the first person to decide that you should pee on it? I mean, did they say, 'I rinsed it off, it still hurts. I put some medicine leaves on it, it still hurts. Oh, wait! I know! I'll pee on it!"

I had a hard time not laughing at him. He just couldn't fathom how someone would come to that conclusion. The funny thing is, scientists have proven that peeing on it doesn't actually work, but I guess it would be worth a try if you didn't have anything else.

That line of thought sent him to eggs.

"And also," Biscuit said, "who was the first person who saw animals eating eggs and thought, 'Hey, we can eat eggs, too, but before we eat them, we're going to put them in a pan with some butter and stir them around.'"

Needless to say, we never got to finish the show. By the time we discussed all his curiosities, it was time for him to get a shower and get to bed.

I didn't mind not finishing the show. I'd rather see his brain working any day.

Trip memories

I took quite a long break from writing blog posts, as you know. 2017 was a crazy, weird year for us.

But while I was taking a break, we traveled up to see Jeff's family. It's 10 hours each way in the car, and there's radio, DVDs (with headphones so Jeff and I can talk or listen to music), car games, snacks, etc.

I made a travel basket for Biscuit and put it beside him in the back seat. It had activity books, a travel magnetic hangman game, a couple of chapter books, some fun little toys and other things to keep him amused.

He also had his own snacks and bottles of water.

We were maybe two hours into the trip, and Biscuit said, "Mom, can you look back here?"

I turned around to see him with his ankle propped up on his knee and his hands behind his head.

"I am treated like royalty in this car, Mom," he said.

"Yes, you are," I told him.

As we traveled on, Biscuit would ask questions about things he was seeing. And of course, Jeff and I took every opportunity to make stuff up to see if he would believe it.

He asked one question, and Jeff's answer was a little too fantastical.

"Guys," Biscuit said indignantly, "I'm not as gullible as I used to be."

"What does gullible mean?" Jeff asked him.

"You know, when you're trickable," Biscuit said. "If you're not trickable, your not gullible. I know you made up that answer, Dad."

He's going to keep getting smarter, and we're not going to be able to mess with him anymore!

Jeff and I have been trying to take Biscuit to some of the places we went as kids, and we took one of those outings while we were there (more about that later).

After our day trip, we were heading back to Jeff's parents' house. We stopped for a bathroom break, but I stayed in the car. I noticed a Mennonite family to my left and wondered if Biscuit would notice them.

The dad was in a very basic outfit with black suspenders, shoes and hat. And the two sons were dressed just like him except with no hats. The mom had on a long dress with a little bonnet, and the girls were dressed just like her.

As Biscuit, Jeff and Grandma were walking out, the family was walking in. When he saw them, he said (out loud), "Hey, look, they must be having a re-enactment somewhere."

We have an annual Revolutionary War re-enactment in our city every year, and I've never seen any Mennonite people around here, so I guess that was the best answer he could come up with.

Anyway, we had a good time, and as always, we were amused by Biscuit's observance of the world around him.

Word turnabout

You teach them things, and they just turn it around on you!

Jeff was covering a basketball game, so I was helping Biscuit get ready for bed.

"Mom," he said, "will I have something to wear to school tomorrow?"

I'm not sure where the question came from. It's not like he has ever not had clothes to wear.

"No," I said. "You’ll have to go to school naked."

"Moooom!" Biscuit said.

"Dude!" I said. "I was being sarcastic."

"Tell me what that means again, Biscuit said..

So I told him, "It’s when you say something you don’t really mean to make a point. It’s like you’re saying, 'Well, duh!'"

The next morning, Biscuit was brushing his teeth with no shirt on.

"Are you gonna put a shirt on before you go to school?" I asked him.

"No," he said. "I’m just gonna go to school without one."

"What?!" I said.

And in a whisper, Biscuit said, "That’s sarcasm. Get it, Mom?"

And now that he understands it, he uses it often!

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has said recently:


Let's make a deal: Bisucit was really tired one recent Saturday night. And since Jeff is the one who usually helps him get ready for bed, I guess he thought that he could pull make a deal with me.

"Mom, if I promise to brush my teeth three times tomorrow, can I just skip it tonight?" he asked.

"Let me think about that for a minute," I said and with no pause, I continued. "Um, no!"

"Aw, man!" Biscuit said. "Well, I guess it was worth a try."


An open mind: Jeff was talking to Biscuit recently about being a picky eater.

"Mom and I worry, dude," Jeff told him, "because a lot of the food that you like to eat is not great for your body. It's really not fair. Wouldn't it be great if green beans tasted like chocolate or peas and carrots tasted like cake? It's a cruel thing that foods that are good for you don't always taste great."

"That would be cool," Biscuit said. "Or if broccoli tasted like doughnuts?"

"Yes," Jeff said. "We just want you to keep an open mind about new foods. Do you know what keeping an open mind means?"

"I think it's figurative language," Biscuit said, "but I don't know what it means."

Jeff laughed. "Keeping an open mind means that you don't decide whether you like something or not before you even try it."

"Okay," Biscuit said. "I'll try."


A new word: One day a couple of weeks ago, I was doing some work from home, and I was ready to hurt somebody for doing a lousy job on something.

I closed my laptop, threw my hands up and said something I don't usually say. 

"You know what?" I said to Jeff. "Screw it!"

And Jeff took Biscuit up to get his shower while I calmed down and got the work stuff fixed.

As Biscuit was getting out of the shower, he asked Jeff, "What was that word Mom used earlier?"

"What word?" Jeff asked, knowing full well what word he was talking about.

"It was an S word," Biscuit said. "Something like 'scroot.'"

Jeff said he had a really hard time not laughing, and then he played dumb.

"I'm not sure, dude," Jeff said and then promptly changed the subject.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Jeff and I don't usually do anything for Valentine's Day, but you know kids, they want to celebrate EVERYTHING!

Biscuit asked if I'd make some cookies for him to give his teachers, and I figured I'd bake enough for some people at work and our neighbors. And I thought that would be it.

Jeff took Biscuit to his piano lesson, and I stayed home to bake.

I thought they came out well. I especially liked the festive sprinkles!

Red Velvet Whoopie Pies and Chocolate Kiss Cookies.

When Jeff and Biscuit got home, Biscuit was wound up.

"Mom! Mom!" he said. "We got you a couple of things, but you can only get one tonight. The other one is for tomorrow. So close your eyes and hold out your hands."

I did what he told me, and when I opened my eyes, I had a little pot of purple irises, my favorite flowers.

"Do you like them, Mom? They're your favorite, right? I picked them out just for you," Biscuit told me. "And best of all, guess what?"

And when Biscuit says, "Guess what?" one of two things is going to happen.

Biscuit: Guess what?
Jeff: Chicken butt.

or

Biscuit: Guess what? (Then he waits until you say "what" before he starts talking again.)

So I answered him, and he said, "The best part is that these irises are re-growable. You can plant them somewhere and enjoy them again and again!"

I made a proper fuss over them, and when I walked into the kitchen this morning to make his lunch, he handed me a heart made of my favorite candy.

It didn't escape me that this is one of his favorite candies, too.

I packed Biscuit one of the sprinkle cookies in his lunch. And I used a heart-shaped cookie cutter to cut a heart into the middle of his sandwich.

As he was walking out the door, I said, "Dude! Thank you for my candy. I'm going to wait until you get home to eat it so you can have some, too. Okay?"

"You're going to share your Valentine candy with me, Mom?" he asked in quite a surprised voice.

"Of course!" I told him.

"Wow!" he said. "You're the best mom ever!"

I'm not sure how long that kind of admiration will last, but for the time being, I'm soaking it up like a sponge.

Happy Heart Day, everybody!

Trying again

Out of nowhere, Biscuit asked me the other evening if I had written anything on the blog lately.

"Nope," I told him. "It's been a really long time."

"Would you mind writing some new stuff?" he asked. "You know our family and friends like to read about us."

So I guess I'll try to write some about what we're up to.

I assumed he'd be getting to the age where he's ask me not to write things about him anymore. But it was just the opposite.

So here's a funny thing that happened recently.

Biscuit had some testing at school last week, and I asked Jeff if he would make him a good breakfast that would keep him full through the testing period.

I had already packed Biscuit's lunch. I make homemade versions of those lunch kits you can get at the grocery store. I put in crackers, shredded cheese, pepperoni and a little bit of pizza sauce.

When I picked Biscuit up after school, I told him that Jeff was covering a basketball game, so it would be just me and him for the evening.

"Where are we going, Mom?" Biscuit asked.

"Um, home," I said. "Is there somewhere you'd like to go?"

"Well, I thought we might go out to eat, just the two of us," he said.

"Where would you like to go?" I asked him.

"PIZZA!" Biscuit said.

"You had build-your-own pizza for lunch," I told him.

"Yes, and Dad gave me a slice of pizza for breakfast this morning," Biscuit said. "So I was just thinking how cool it would be to have pizza for all three meals in one day."

It sounded like a life goal to me, so I drove us over to a pizza place we like. And I took a picture of the boy to send to Jeff. Biscuit said it would make Jeff jealous.

I guess getting to make his life goal come true put Biscuit in a good mood because he was very charming with the server. He went to the bathroom at one point, and on his way back, he looked straight ahead and walked past our table like he didn't know me.

I turned around just in time to see look back and grin. "You thought I didn't know where I was going, right, Mom?"

We laughed and ate our food, and it was soon time to leave.

When we got to the front door, Biscuit leaned on it to open it, but nothing happened. The doors are kind of hard to open, so I reached right above his head and gave the door a shove. Biscuit staggered out onto the sidewalk.

"Well that was anti-climactic," he said.

"What?" I asked him, confused.

"I don't even know what that means, Mom," he said. "I just wanted to use a big word."

As we were walking to the car, he asked, "Was it coincidental? That's a big word, too."

"It wasn't anti-climactic or coincidental," I told him.

On the way home, he made me explain what those words mean so he could use them correctly the next time.

And he made his goal of three meals of pizza in one day.