Funny Man

Lee and I are different. Very different. We have our struggles because of it. But no matter how frustrated we can be at each other, he has one positive trait that is undeniable:

The boy is a crack up.

As parents we're not allowed to have favorites. But it's perfectly okay to prefer one of someone else's brood over their siblings. That's Lee. I've had people say, "Of all your kids, Lee's my favorite." I've also been told, "He makes me laugh. He doesn't even have to do anything! Whenever I look at him I want to laugh." Twice, actually, by two different people.

I've witnessed his gift a few times of late.

I took him to preschool and dropped him off at the door of his teacher's basement. He was hunched over doing his imitation of a robot, because that's the way all preschoolers walk into the classroom, isn't it? Wordlessly and sans eye contact, he had all 5 of the little girls there giggling and tittering because he's so funny. Amazing.

One day last week Riah & I took the younger two to run some errands before the older kids got off the bus. While I was being helped at the counter at Discount Tire I let Cora wander. Enclosed room, lots of windows, nothing to do but walk, touch smelly tires and look out the windows. As I was finishing up, I turned around to see Lee hauling his little sister to me because 'she needed to be by Mom.' I thanked him for being a good big brother and let him know that she was fine and to please put her down. He's a muscly brute, but he still has to lean back to counterbalance the fact that she weighs over half what he does. The lady behind me watched him trudge and stagger across the floor and laughed out loud.

On to Costco.

I've decided that future Costco trips will be during preschool. This time wasn't too bad thanks to the advantageous parent/child ratio. At the register, Riah took the kids & headed out to get a jump start on the car seat buckling. And to get the children out of the store. Mostly the latter. I ended up walking directly behind them out the door. I wish I had a camera.

Strong, broad-shouldered husband, carrying sweet baby with Cindy-Lou-Who hair in his left arm; holding hand of tow-headed 3.5 year-old son in his right. Said son happily walking hand-in-hand with his dad, too-big jeans bunching over too-big black galoshes; big red Spider-Man coat clutched in right arm, blue mittens-on-a-string dangling below, almost dragging on the floor. All the while he's musically moving his voice up and down as his tongue bobs quickly back and forth past the opening of his O-shaped lips, making a cute, typical, untypable sound. (Pretty sure you just tried it.)

The receipt-checker lady watched them walk out, then looked at me. I offered, "We're never bored at our house," which triggered a short conversation as she compared my cart with my receipt. Her end comment was uttered through a laugh: "He's hysterical."

He didn't do anything. He simply walked. And it was hysterical.