Where I Rank

DS is in first grade at a Catholic school (let the flogging commence!). He has a nifty religion workbook--really fun stuff. He brought it home last night to be covered on Contact paper and DH and I flipped through a bit.

On several pages, he's asked in a few different ways who teaches him about God. And they all say "Mom." Some have drawn pictures, some are just the word. But over and over. Mom.

Can you see my heart swell as I type that? I rule!

Tonight, as we were breaking land-speed records despite D.C.'s rush hour (it's a long story) and he and his sister chilled in their jammies, chomping on Ritz Bits, under strict orders to please, please, please be quiet and just let Mommy drive for the love of all that's holy, they started chatting about school.

I hear him mention the book and how much he likes it. And he starts telling his little sister about these pages, where he's asked who tells him about God.

"Well," he says. "I could only say one person, and we have two priests at school and I couldn't pick."

OK. That's valid. We go to church every week as a family and he goes every other week with his class. Priests are huge in his life right now. Cool. I'm second to a monsignor. I can handle that.

Then he says, "And I was going to write 'teacher,' but that's a really long word to write. And I don't know how to spell it. It would have taken a long time. So I didn't put that."

Uh huh.

"So," he finishes with a shrug (my nifty Odyssey has a mirror just for watching kids in the backseat. Despite my Mario Andretti maneuvers tonight, I was watching this), "I needed somebody with a short name that I could spell. And I like writing 'M's.' So I put Mom."

*pop*




That was my formerly swelled heart, deflating just as fast as I was driving, and my parenting ego flying right out the sunroof.

Kids...