My cell phone was sitting on the table playing music through its speaker. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, I noticed my phone was quiet.

Hmm. I picked up the phone and examined it to see what the glitch was. The phone was off. That’s odd.

It wouldn’t turn back on. It was just dead. Calfgrit4 was the only one around, and he had an uneasy interest in my investigation.

I asked him, “Did you mess with my phone?”

“I dropped it,” he said. “In my water cup.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . <- that’s me holding my tongue while my head throbbed.

Oh my God! Oh no! That phone is my tech baby. It’s my phone, my music player, my camera, my little notebook for numbers and notes. It’s my one piece of tech luxury. I love that little thing more than I like my car.

Calfgrit4 assured me he dried it off.

Yes, the outside was dry. I ran with the phone back to my bathroom and put the hairdryer to it with the hopes that I could somehow resuscitate it. I blew warm air into the cracks and crevices of the phone to dry or blow out any water inside. I tended to my little baby for a good half hour, praying and wishing the whole time.

I’m not sure what Calfgrit4 was doing while I was so completely occupied. He might have been testing the water resistance of all kinds of other electronics, but I was focused too much right then to care. I wouldn’t really miss the TV if he destroyed it. But my phone — my phone is my one and only real piece of modern technology. Hell, even my computer is about six years old.

Fortunately drying out the phone eventually brought it back to useful life. Oh thank God!

When I finally came back out to find Calfgrit4 playing nicely — no electronics sitting in water, and no water dripping over electronics. He said, “I’m sorry I wet your phone.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” I said. “But please don’t ever mess with my, or Mommy’s, phone.” I explained about water and electronics (and electricity), but I don’t know if he understood it all.

Later, I learned from Cowgrit, that he had used my phone as a bridge across the top of his water cup. “Building a bridge. Maybe he’ll become an engineer when he grows up.”

“Yeah,” I said, “that would be cool.” I didn’t add, So long as he’s not an electrical engineer.

Bullgrit

I feel like I tell my little boys “no” all the time. I hate that. I don’t want to be constantly denying them things and actions.

“Good Parenting” guides say a parent should redirect or tell the child what they can do instead of saying “no.” I try to do that, but after a while, it gets tiring and difficult.

Standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, CalfgritX says, “Can I have this candy?”

Catching myself from just saying, “No,” I think and instead say, “How about we get it, but you can eat some of it for dessert after dinner.”

“But I want the pudding we have in the ‘fridgerator for dessert.”

“Your choice. Which would you rather have?”

“This candy, now,” he says, sweetly.

I fall back on the old, “No.”

And there are times when the boys desires or actions come rapid fire such that anything longer than one syllable just won’t work.

Boy takes toy away from other boy: “No.”

Other boy pushes boy for taking the toy: “No.”

Boy hits other boy for pushing him: “No.”

Other boy kicks boy for hitting him: “No.”

Boy snaps whip on other boy: “No!”

Other boy swings big stick on boy: “No!”

Boy pulls switchblade knife on other boy: “NO!”

Other boy brandishes butcher knife on boy: “NO!”

Boy draws pistol on other boy: “NO!”

Other boy aims machine gun at boy: “NO!”

Boy calls in cruise missile strike on other boy: “NO!”

Other boy presses big red button for nuclear detonation on boy: “NO!”
“DO NOT MAKE ME GET UP FROM THIS HAMMOCK AND PUT YOU BOTH IN TIME OUT!”

I mean, sometimes I don’t even get to take a breath between “no”s.

Bullgrit

Calfgrit4 asked Cowgrit about camping out one night over the weekend.

“Ask your dad,” was her answer.

“But Mom,” said CG4, “you’re the commander of the house. You tell Daddy what to do.”

He’s figured out the family hierarchy already. He’s a smart boy. He’ll make a wonderful husband some day.

Bullgrit

Calfgrit4 has gone to a few “Stretch and Grow” classes where the preschool kids do some exercises and tumbles and such as structured play. He seems to like the class, and it’s good to see how his physical skills are progressing by watching him perform specific activities.

One activity had the instructor telling the children to stretch way up with both hands, pretend to grab a star, pull it down, blow on it, and make a wish.

“What did you wish for,” the instructor asked each child:

Calfgrit4’s answer was practical, if unimaginative: “Water.” I guess stretching and growing makes him thirsty.

The other children answered:

“A dog.”

“A baby brother or baby sister.”

“Oatmeal.”

* * *

Bonus fun from the mind of Calfgrit4:

“How much does money cost?”

Bullgrit