Ok, I'm trying this again. I did this entry yesterday, and just as I was finishing, you guessed it--I got the big AOL kiss-off. As we were already running late to swimming lessons, I couldn't have a do-over. I only hoped that it was not some kind of karmic indication that my visit to the dealership with my van later that morning was not going to go well. But that's another story.
I was folding clothes the other night and called the boys in to get their stuff. It's a new concept for me, getting them to do it, because the control-freak bitch part of me just can't stand it when they stuff things willy-nilly in their drawers instead of moving things to make them fit well. They seem to think that the harder the drawer is to close, the better the job they are doing. At any rate, when I felt myself stiffen and had the urge to follow them to put the stuff away, I just told the cf bitch to shut up and close her eyes, because you just can't get good help these days. What's a few wrinkles if it means five minutes less laundry duty for me?
Nolan forgot something, so I'm calling him back, but he's already finished his task and is booking it down the hallway.
He comes back into the room, with that look on his face that indicates that I have offended his finer sensibilities. (This from a boy who prides himself on having taught his younger siblings how to make armpit fart noises.)
"What?" I ask, because if I don't get it out of him now, I'll have to deal with sulky pre-teen the rest of the night.
"Why did you say that about me? Why did you use that word?"
Great. Yet another reminder that I don't work hard enough to make these children bilingual. And that I curse too much in Spanish, such that any word I utter, unless it's a sentence, is assumed to be "bad."
"I wasn't cursing, if that's what you are wondering."
"Then what does that mean?"
No, no, no. I hate having to come up with translation on the spot... "It means, sometimes, that you are being stingy with something, tight about something...like if you had a big pile of M&M's, and I asked for some, and you gave me like, two of them. I might say "Don't be pinche with them" or "no seas pinche". And the way I used it, well...it's not that meaning, like always, there is more than one meaning to a word. I can't explain it, but it wasn't bad, really." (I have since looked it up, and the meaning I got was "darn" which is exactly what I meant.)
Mr W is amused by this exchange, and he backs me up. But then when Nolan leaves the room, he says: "Why do you do that?"
"I can't help it, it just happens sometimes. You know how I am, if I get emotional, or tired, or worked up about things, it just pops out." (Like he's never heard me spout off before.)
"But why do you do it?" What, suddenly he's a five year old? He's really asking me why?
"I don't know. I have no control over it. It just happens." He knows me, I shouldn't have to explain to him that some times I'm thinking in it, and my brain doesn't make the switch when I open my mouth; that some things just sound better to me in Spanish. Sometimes, it's just more expressive. (Really, just watch a telenovela sometime, and when you get over how beautiful the people are on the show, listen to them talk. Who wouldn't want to hear "besame" as opposed to "kiss me?")
"You seriously have no control over it?" Finally. Evidence that he really only hears 40% of what I say.
"I have no control over it."
"So it's like Spanish Tourette's?"
I had to laugh. "I guess. You have no idea. I bet you wouldn't complain if I suddenly developed it during an intimate moment." Oh, now he's intrigued. So of course I have to press the issue:
"Besame," I say, raising an eyebrow and feeling a wicked grin spread across my face.
"What?" he responds, as he leans around me to see the t.v.
"Oh, nevermind." I pick up the laundry basket and leave the room. See, I realize that he does know what it means.
It's just that my 40% window has closed.