Brutally Honest

I'm so relieved. 

Not about Cael's successful first weeks of school, and not about finding that dirty diaper that vanished for a solid four hours yesterday (crisis averted).  No, I'm very happy to discover that what I thought was my son's burgeoning puberty-like bad attitude is simply his own internal battle to discover how honest is too honest.

I'm not even talking about the dinner out where Cael called me "really, really fat and full of pizza".  I'm talking about the way his inquisitive nature and desire to question our motives leads his mouth to speak in a not-so-eloquent manner.

"Cael, come over here for a second."

"Why should I?"

He's lucky he's cute.

"Bugger, I need you to pick up those cars."

"I'm not going to do that."

Oh no he didn't.

If I'd been able to hear through the steam escaping my ears, I would have been able to hear him continue.

"Mommy, I'm not going to do that because I'm still picking up the blocks in my room."

Sometimes it's not the content, but the delivery that ruffles my feathers, and there is no better feather-ruffler than Cael himself.

"Mommy, how come you're not smart enough to be my teacher for school?"

I considered telling him that not being his teacher was actually one of my smartest moves, but alas, I'm not quite so brutally honest.  I'll leave that skill to Cael.