Señor Suckup

My seven year old is working on his PhD in brown-nosing. I've never met a bigger butt kisser in my entire life. Do you remember Eddie Haskell, from Leave it to Beaver? No? Me either. It was WAY before my time. But trust me when I tell you that Seven makes Eddie look like an amateur.

No matter what I look like he tells me I'm beautiful. Any time I'm cleaning he offers to do it for me, even though he can't reach, lift, or carry whatever I'm doing because he's too small. But the thing is, he sincerely wants to help. Mostly. The other night I needed to run to the pharmacy before they closed but I didn't want to go back out in the cold. Seven said, "Mommy, I will go to the store and get it for you." Nevermind that he's, you know, SEVEN and therefore can't drive my car. He just wanted to get the brownie points for offering.

His teachers all think he's the greatest thing since sliced bread. Today was report card day and his teacher wrote the following comment, "[Seven] is such a neat kid. I'm honored to be his teacher." By the way, he got all Es (a first grade A--it stands for excellent) which is totally appropriate since he's a most excellent child. (And just so you know, Big Brother got all As and Bs. Again.)

Seven is so very sweet and precious and wonderful and darling but sometimes I just want to tell him to pull his cute little nose out of my butt and be a normal kid. Like, complain when I ask him to clean his room or something. But I don't say a word because I know it won't last. Someday he WILL be big enough to actually do the things he's offering to do.

And that's when the offers will stop.