I am coming down with another bad cold. My
ears are a bit achy, too, and I hope and pray it’s not another sinus
infection/ear infection.
After work, I rushed home to get the entire
family, including Granny, and off we went to the karate studio. Michael tested
for his yellow belt. I was very apprehensive, because I had no idea what he’d
be asked to do. Turns out, all he had to do was copy the moves everyone else
made, and follow the teacher’s instructions. The clearly want the kids to
succeed. Michael just beamed when he broke a board for the second time, and
just before getting his belt, he got to run around the mat in a “victory lap.”
I took photos, which I’ll post tomorrow.
When they were dismissed, Michael came
running up to me. I threw my arms around him and kissed him. It was so hard not
to cry. I whispered to him, in Russian, “I am SO proud of you!” He smiled,
probably amazed I knew the Russian words. Glad I memorized that phrase.
After we left, we went out to dinner to
celebrate, to Mesa Caliente, my favorite Mexican restaurant. I had two
burritos, as usual.
When we came back, Coco had pooped on the
sofa. Michael looked at it and wrinkled his nose. “Goddamnit, Coco!” he
exclaimed. I was stunned. “MICHAEL THOMPSON! YOU will NOT use that word in THIS
HOUSE!” I yelled at him. It’s the first time I’ve ever been really angry and
let him know it. The other day he said “Jesus Christ!” I told him very sternly
that he is NOT allowed to use that language in our house. I made Alesia quit
saying “Oh my GOD” when she was learning English. It’s just disrespectful to
the Lord, and we won’t allow it. Period.
I went on about my business, got Coco’s mess
cleaned up, checked messages, put on my bathrobe, and went looking for Michael.
He was in the bed, face to the mattress.
“Michael, what’s wrong?” I asked him.
“I said a bad word, Mom.” He said, ashamed. Poor
little guy.
“Michael, you said a bad word. I know you
won’t ever say that word again, will you?”
He shook his head.
“Right. But you know something, Michael? You
are NOT a bad boy. You are a GOOD boy. Nothing, no English word, will EVER make
me not love you. You understand me? There is NO word in English bad enough to
make me not love you.”
His little arms went around my neck. I
hugged him tight. “I am SO proud of you, son. You did something amazing
tonight. You are THE MAN!”
He is the man. Even if I have to remind him to change his undies every day…
