Rerun is Giving Me Grey Hair

This kid… is so NOT like me.

He is VERY like his father.

Apparently, after having a daughter, and a son with autism, God saw fit to give us a personality clone of the Webmaster.  The story goes that at age 3, Nana and Papa enrolled the Webmaster in preschool.  On the first day, he climbed over a fence with a friend and escaped.  They were found a few blocks away by a stranger and returned to the preschool.  At that point, Nana and Papa decided it would be a good idea to have the Webmaster wait another year to start preschool.

In every part of that story, you could put Rerun’s name in instead of his father’s.  I am raising the Webmaster’s karma, and there is something REALLY unfair about this.

For example, yesterday.  Tad was at speech therapy, and while he is there, I usually run over to Trader Joe’s with the other three kids and do some grocery shopping.  Rerun loves the fact that they have kid-sized carts, and he gets to push one around the store (if one is available).  So, he filled the little cart with the items on the list that he loves the best.  A box of cheddar rocket crackers.  Turkey meatballs.  Yogurt (he loves their little cups of yogurt).  Plus some other items, like buttermilk and avocados and dried fruit.

And as soon as his cart was filled, he promptly walked out the door with his cart.  Without paying for any of it.

Fortunately, his sister grabbed him (I had the baby) before he got too far and got him back inside.  But yes.  The boy tried to shoplift (albeit unintentionally) and ENTIRE cart of food.

And then, while I am checking out, he makes a break for it.  Ane and one of the other store employees caught him in the parking lot.  I must have looked like a very neglectful mother, letting Ane run after him and just sighing about the whole thing.

And it doesn’t help that every time that I bring up Rerun’s latest antics to his father, the Webmaster cracks up laughing… and then apologizes to me.

After his shopping antics yesterday, Rerun refused to nap and instead wanted to color.  He also had a pencil and started writing.  “S…N…O…W.  Mom, dat says SNOW.”

I don’t remember teaching him to read – or spell – the word “snow.”

Okay, maybe he is a TINY bit like me.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 28th, 2014 at 12:25 am and is filed under Children, Shopping Stories.
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