The boys have started drinking hot tea with milk. Or as Mr. French likes to say, “Milk with a little tea.”
He doesn’t really approve, even though he claims to be an anglophile.
The other night, one of the boys had a cup of tea and since we were with some friends, one of whom is a pediatrician, Mr. French brought it up, again.
“So, do you think that much caffeine is bad for kids? Do you think it’s going to stunt their growth?”
Before the doctor could answer, I piped in, “What? Are all the English short?”
‘Cause, yeah. They kinda are.
At church in the evening, we always have snacks. And the boys always eat a lot. Which amuses all of the other moms, who all have teenagers but who apparently don’t eat as much as my boys.
“I can’t believe how much he eats.” said one, referring to J. “He eats more than these teenagers.”
“Yeah.” I said, agreeing.
“You probably already have to cook like you have teenagers.”
“Oh. That’s scary.” (I need a bigger pan!)
The two older boys now have bunk beds. And it’s the first piece of furniture we’ve ever bought them. And we still bought it used on Craig’s list.
But I think they love it.
(That is his happy face.)
(It’s also his this-is-such-a-dumb-time-to-take-a-picture-face.)