Mr. Passive-Aggressive

Sometimes Mark spouts out whatever he's thinking, and his sassy mouth gets him in trouble. Other times, he gets his point across more subtly.

Last night, I was rushing around the kitchen, making dinner, and Mark kept getting in the way. I suggested that perhaps it was time for drum practice out in the garage. He disagreed. "I don't want to play my drums now!" he wailed.

I finally kicked him out of the kitchen. "PLEASE go find something to do!" I yelled. He stomped off angrily, feelings hurt.

We sat down to eat, and as soon as I stopped moving, I got a chill. "It's cold in here!" I noted. I went down the hall and turned up the thermostat.

After dinner, Mark brought out his new Diary of a Wimpy Kid book. It's a do-it-yourself book, where you can write stories or draw comics. Mark worked diligently on a story while I washed the dishes.

"Hey Mom," he called a few minutes later. "Wanna hear my story?"

"I'd love to," I answered, so he started reading aloud.

"Once there was the meanest mom in the whole wide world, " he started, then immediately stopped. "It's not about you," he said quickly, but as he read on, I had my doubts.

"Anyway...there was the meanest mom in the whole world, and she was always cold. " He shivered for affect.

"The meanest mom was so mean that she waited for everyone to go to sleep, and then she started playing the drums. She played the drums at 2 o'clock in the morning and woke everyone up. She didn't even care, she was so mean. The end." He smiled proudly at me.

Let's see...I kicked him out of the kitchen, talked about drums and being cold, but this story was not about me, huh? Suuuuuure.

Oh well, Mommy Dearest-type books are usually quite popular. Maybe I'm not really being mean at all; perhaps I'm just giving my son a writing career, and lots of stories to include in his tell-all book.

And maybe someday, I won't have to just hear him grouse about my mothering mistakes; instead, they'll be immortalized on the New York Times bestseller list, and I can read all about them.

Or maybe I'll just play the drums at 2 a.m. tonight and see how little Mr. Passive-Aggressive likes that!

He's definitely got an opinion

Mark is a funny little kid. He's very opinionated, and sometimes, like this morning, those opinions catch me off guard.

We were walking to school and he noticed my black shoes. He makes the same comment every time I wear these shoes.

"Those look like men's shoes," he told me matter-of-factly.

"You say that every time I wear them," I replied.

"Well, they do," he insisted.

I let it go. I hadn't had my coffee yet; it was too early to argue.

But he kept going.

"I said, they DO look like men's shoes."

I smiled. "I heard you," I said.

Silence for five or six steps.

"Are they men's shoes?" he asked. He is nothing if not persistent.

"No," I answered. "They are women's shoes. I know you think they're men's shoes; you are entitled to your opinion. I'm not going to change your mind, so think what you'd like about them."

We walked on, again in silence. I knew he was still thinking about it, so I let him. The only thing he hates more than being wrong is not being able to argue a point. He can't stand it when I end a conversation without letting him be right. (He'll make a fine husband to some lucky girl someday!)

"I think they are men's shoes. You probably bought them in the men's department," he said (he was with me when I bought them -- in the women's department!). And then his voice changed from questioning to authoritative. "They are men's shoes," he said. "Have fun at work wearing men's shoes." And then he skipped off to school on his own.

I swear, I don't know where that kid gets it. He's never sure what 6 x 4 is, but apparently, he is an expert on shoes. And once he makes up his mind, nobody is gonna change it!