Mascara in one hand...dart gun in the other

We have a rule in this house. If I pick up the darts, there's only one way my son can get them back. Via the gun. I don't really care which one. The single loader. The 6-shooter. The machine-gun-like rapid shooter.

So of course, he shoots at me. Frequently. It's bonding time. The morning after Christmas Day, he caught me full in the tushie with the rapid-shooter. Velcro darts. And I had on my new, softer-than-a-fur-coat baby blue microfiber nightgown. I looked like a porcupine when he was done!

I got him back though, and not with darts. We watched Jurassic Park a few nights ago--he had always wanted to see it. Afterwards while getting ready to read science to the kids, admiring pictures and bookmarking the pages, I saw my opportunity. Imagine the head of a vicious-looking fruit-bat baring it's teeth and looking very similar to a velociraptor peeking it's head around the corner! So I quick flashed the picture at Zac while roaring, and oh my goodness! I wish I had a picture of his face when he jumped back and screamed! Poor kid said I gave him a heart attack! Bad Mommy! Bad Bad Mommy!

Since then he has missed no opportunity to try to get me back--I'm not sure my crime will ever be paid for. That must have led up to this evening's showdown. Even though my oldest is going on 11 years next month, I still don't always have the bathroom to myself. But that was ok; I had the darts. (He shot them at me, giggled, then said "oh crud!" as he dropped the gun and ran for cover). I knew he'd be back. So I got ready for my homeschool group meeting with mascara in my right hand, dart gun in my left. I found out I'm not all that bad a shot with the left hand either!

The mascara, on the other hand, needs some work. But I have years to work on that. With his rapid-fire questions today centering on such "light" topics as whether he'd have to enlist in the army when he grows up, or get married...oh, and what's the proper way to get to know a girl? and what if the government doesn't know who I am? (are you following this conversation?!)...I need all the dart-gun fights with him I can get.

So fire away, my boy, with the darts...or the questions. I'll try to be ready as often as I can.

Merry :-)