That's Not Your Mommy Anymore

Greg Mogk, author of That's Not Your Mommy Anymore has taken a very prestigious role in our family of late.  You see, Urban is OBSESSED with all things zombie.  It started with Plants vs. Zombies on the XBox.  It seemed innocuous enough.  Then came Zombie Smash on the iPad.  Then Zombie Dice.  Then a constant stream of zombie talk.  You would be shocked how much my 4-year-old has gleaned about zombie lore on his own.  And one thing Brett and I have always done is to try and immerse ourselves in Urban's interest du jour.

So, since May was Zombie Awareness month, and we are trying to encourage Urban's early reading skills anyway, I decided it was a great idea to get him Mogk's book.  Yep.  Great idea.  We now read it every night.  Every night, AFTER we play a rousing game of dice, that is.  Zombie Dice, of course.  (but, I must say that Urban can add and subtract up to 13 without even thinking about it.)

And now we can no longer just walk to the bathroom to brush teeth, we have to have "slow" races because, "zombies shamble, Mama.  That means slow-walk."  (Thanks, Mogk.)  So we shamble to the bathroom to scrub our zombie choppers and rinse with "brain juice".  (That's mouthwash for you non-zombies.)  We read That's Not Your Mommy Anymore in chorus, and then it's a zombie-back-ride into bed.  Mommy-zombie (that's me) can never quite reach the yummy, tender brains on her back.  They are always just out of reach.  Ah, zombie culture... you have taken over my house!

So, the other day as we were sitting on the couch, Urban was explaining to me how cool math is.  It's a hard sell, I assure you, and he looks at me and says, "You know, Mama, zombies aren't real."

"They're not?"

"No.  They're 'maginary like unicorns and sharks."

"Urban, sharks are real."

"What?  Nooooo... They're just on TV."

"No, they're real.  Don't you remember seeing them at the zoo?"

"Yes.  But those were TV sharks, on the big giant TV.  That one tried to eat us, but he hit the TV screen and went away."

"OK, he didn't try to eat us buddy, he just was interested in looking at us.  And, that was an aquarium, like at the doctor's office, only bigger.  See?"

"Mmm.  Kinda.  So sharks are real?"

"Yes."

"But zombies are 'maginery."

"Yes."

"But giants are real.  Cause they live in the clouds and grow corn and chickens."

"Um..."

"Yeah, really big chickens.  But just one corn."

"Well..."

"Yep.  Giants and sharks are real."

"Sure, buddy, whatever you say."

At least we don't have fears of zombie attack, right?  Although, now I do get nervous when the clouds are super fluffy.  I don't even want to think about what happens to the chicken droppings when the giants clean the coops.

As seen on TV

On Saturday we went as a family to the Forest Lake Applebees for a fundraising breakfast for the Forest Lake Girls' Synchronized Swim Team.  Urban's cousins, Stephanie and Josephine, swim on the team which took 3rd at state last week.  Urban is OBSESSED with his cousins, Stephanie and Josephine.  If you say either of their names around him, he turns all pink and gets coy.  It's absolutely adorable.

Of course, Urban is also obsessed with older girls and attention, so this breakfast was right up his alley.  By the end of the meal, he had 6 high school girls gathered around him as he told stories and did his prat falls.  He even asked them all to smell his cheeks.  (He had put aftershave on that morning with Daddy because, "girls like it when you smell nice.")

At the end of the breakfast, Josephine and her dad, Brett's cousin Patrick, invited us back to their house.  Urban was ecstatic.  Josephine asked Urban if he had ever seen a bunny before.  He looked at her and said, "I've seen one on TV!"  You see, Josephine raises chickens and rabbits.



So, apparently, I am completely failing my son.  We live in a metro area, yes, but we do not live in the concrete jungle.  There are wild rabbits everywhere.  How has he never seen one?  How have I missed pointing out rabbits??  Urban is clearly living up to his name.

So, anyway, off we went to Josephine's house to see the bunnies and chickens.  Urban was in heaven.  He held REAL (squeal!!) chickens and a duck.  He chased a rooster who "cock-a-doodle-dooed" at him the whole time.  And (swoon) he helped Josephine with the rabbits.  By the end of the day, he had crawled inside the hutch with them and was feeding them grass and flowers from his hand.  It was one of his best days ever.  And, as we were leaving, Josephine gave us a carton of eggs from her REAL chickens.

Urban looked at me all serious and said, "Mama, these are special eggs because they are REAL eggs.  Not the store kind.  REAL ones from REAL chickens, Mama.  Real ones."

So, wait, they are real eggs??  Wow.  I'm glad they aren't pretend like those ones I pay $3 for every week.  Now I have the pressure of doing something awesome with the REAL eggs.  He is dying to eat them.  Do I boil them?  Make them into a cake or sweet bread?  Do they become cookies?  I have to figure it out before the REAL eggs become REAL yucky.

And, let me tell you, this has done nothing to dissuade my desire for city chickens.  You hear, me Brett?  I think we need chickens at our new house.  ::grin::