The strangest thing happened this week.

(strange meaning in your face)

Payton brought home one of those Scholastic book catalogs from school.

(no, that’s not the strange, in your face, part.)

Payton asked me to order some books in the catalog. Not me asking him, but him asking me.

(again, not the strange part, which could also be called in your face, since he always wants to order books and would rather have a trip to Books a Million than Toys R Us.)

The strange part about this event was the particular books Payton asked me to order. What books are those? Those books would be the Junie B. Jones books.

You read that right. Payton wants to read fiction.

IN YOUR FACE, INFIDELS!

Not only does Payton want me to order Junie B. Jones, but he wants the entire freaking box set and a new series called The Adventures of Riley, which is a combination of nonfiction facts and fiction stories of a boy who saves endangered animals.

(please pause for yet another immature moment from me – as if you expect anything else)

NEENER! I TOLD YOU SO! NEENER!

Can I get an amen? Or a sweet vindication dance? A jig that looks something like Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s “show me the money” dance in Jerry Maguire. Is there a kind of badge I’ve earned for being living proof that some kids don’t follow the chart and it’s still ok? I totally deserve one.

Speaking of badges…

Payton wants to join the cub scouts. Now he did want to join last year, but then refused because he didn’t want to wear the shirt, which was fine by us and we didn’t make any kind of deal out of the shirt thing. Payton has always had this thing about clothes, remember? If you asked him to wear anything other than a 100% cotton T-shirt, he would give you a look that said YOU WANT ME TO DIE BUT NOT BEFORE I SECRETLY USE YOUR TOOTHBRUSH TO CLEAN THE LITTER BOX!

We just got back from the registration meeting and the kid will not shut up wanting to know when he will get the damn cub scout shirt. If you had to guess from Payton’s level of excitement about the shirt, you’d think it was Christmas morning.

Also? As soon as we walked in the door, Payton ran over to a group of boys and began socializing. You know, like a totally normal boy, except not really since he was the only one doing his odd jumping, marching, spinning and body stuff. Payton does a lot of these odd body movements anyway, but get him excited about something (boy oh boy, was he excited to be joining the cub scouts) and you should go ahead and multiply by 10. So while he does seem like a totally normal boy over there socializing, he still stands out from all of the other totally normal boys.

I could worry about these odd body gesticulations and movements he keeps doing (Shouldn’t he have outgrown it by now? He could get picked on, laughed at or rejected!), but ehh, what’s the use? I figure Payton needs to learn to deal with standing out in a crowd, and not just because he’s going to be a famous conservationist one day, but because he’s so darn gorgeous too. (Whose hair do you think he inherited? Mine.) He’s going to be like Steve Irwin or Jeff Corwin, only much better looking.

(I predicted the fiction book thing, so don’t be an infidel on the famous thing.)

When I picked Payton up from school yesterday, he told me, “There’s going to be a VERY IMPORTANT announcement tomorrow!”

“Ok?? About what?”

“About PAPER TOWELS!!!” he said, full of passion and righteous indignation.

“Paper towels? What kind of announcement are they going to have on paper towels?”

“They are using WAY too many paper towels in the boys bathroom! Those boys are wasting and wasting paper towels and they come from trees!”

“Ahhh, I see your point. So did you say something to Mr. Principal?”

“YES!!! And he’s going to make an announcement in the morning.”

I think I’ll stick around the school to hear the morning announcements. And then after that, perhaps I’ll present this PSA poster to Mr. Principal, see if he’s interested in putting it in the school bathrooms.

Heh

I made that up.

Payton should totally believe in nepotism and hire me when he’s famous, right? No? Well, at the very least, he better buy me a house on the beach and stock in the local liquor store because I’ll have earned it.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 27th, 2008 at 4:02 am and is filed under Gifted Children, I Couldn't Make This Shit Up, This Mom Gig. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.