I am telling you the honest to God truth right here: Jonah is one of the funnest, easiest kids you could ever hang out with. He’s such a foreign alien to me sometimes that I will often do what I did just now and force him to sit down next to me and have a non-stop conversation in which I just fire off questions to him to see what his responses are.
Today I decided to dig up his feelings on Maya with, “Tell me how you feel about Maya as your sister.”
BOOM. Dropppppp thaaaaa miiiiiiike.
“What do you mean good? Why not great? Why just good?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even notice.”
“What does that even mean you ‘don’t even notice’? Like, do you think she’s a good big sister? Does she pay enough attention to you? Do you wish you had more in common with her? Do you think she’s a good role model? Do you wish you were closer?”
“I don’t know. She’s fine.”
That was going nowhere. And, I had my game face on. I was into it today.
Jonah comes back with, “Why don’t we talk about you?”
“OH, HELL YEAH. This fires me UP. Ok, how do you feel about me being your mother?”
“I think you’re an incredible mother.”
“OH MY GOD!!!! REEEEEALLLLLLYYYY???? STOP IT. SERIOUSLY. ARE YOU JUST SAYING THAT? OR, DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT? OH MY GODDDDDDDD!!!!”
“Ok, fine. Tell me all the things you love about me being your mother.”
I’ll spare you the sappy things he said, which I LOVED every single one of them, but I would totally regret if I listed them all out. For the record, they’re just all the things I could ever want one of my kids to say about me.
BUT, it wouldn’t be fair if I just stopped there and walked away feeling like I was killing the Mom thing. Because, we all know it’s impossible to “kill” the Mom thing.
“Ok, now tell me all of the things you DON’T like about me being your Mom. Or, we’ll call it ‘areas that I could work on’.”
“Well, I think you could stop telling us all of the things we “should’ve” done. You should just know that we get it and we don’t need to be told it again.”
“Ok, that’s fair. What else?”
“Your wardrobe could improve.”
“No shit, Jonezy. Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Ok, you shouldn’t be sitting in the back yard like you are right now in shorts and your bra just because you think a bra has the same amount of material as a bathing suit and no one else in the neighborhood has the right to tell you otherwise.”
“But, it’s true.”
“Ok, fine. I don’t agree. Like, at all, but, ok.”
“I think you could be more interested in my magic tricks.”
“REALLY? OH MY GOD. I’M SORRY. THAT’S AWFUL.”
“No, I’m just kidding.”
“THAT’S NOT FUNNY, JONAHHHH.”
“And, finally, I think you do too much of this,” as he points to me sitting in a trashy fold out lawn chair in the backyard in jean shorts, a black bra that I’m acting like is a bikini top, laying back saying repeatedly, “Jonah, you need to Earth more. You’re so uptight.”
And, there you have it. My favorite conversationalist in the family, Jonah Keenan-Gallagher.