One of the things I love best about six-year-olds, and my six-year-old in particular, is they have absolutely no idea how transparent they are. As a parent, that really comes in handy, especially when you have a child who thinks he's smarter than you. (Fine, he is, but for the moment his transparency gives us an advantage.)
Bear is always surprised when I know what he's up to. He hasn't yet figured out how I can tell when he's jumping on the bed (the squeaking gives him away) or hasn't washed his hands (the lack of running water is pretty indicative). "Mommies know these things" is the answer I give him when he questions what gave him away. I could tell him how I know, but that would just be stupid. He'll figure out things like running the water and other cover-ups soon enough, but I'm sure as heck not going to point them out to him.
The other day I caught him at something, and he was really ticked off.
"How did you get your Mommy superpowers?" he yelled at me.
"God gives mommies superpowers," I told him. How I managed to say it with a straight face, I'm not sure, but I did.
That stopped him in his tracks. He looked at me for a minute as if to figure out whether I was telling the truth, nodded his head, and walked away.
So here's my prayer for today.
Thank you, God, for my Mommy superpowers. Would it be too much to ask if they can evolve as Bear does? I'd like to keep my advantage for a few more years, if possible.