The other day I came home from work to find Zayd sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing our sofa in the sunroom. He was wearing a lavender felt poncho and a red crown made of foam craft sheets - adorned with stickers and some sort of fuzzy white stuff. He has a large plastic storage box opened... and it looked like one I keep all his old artwork and school work in....
Did I mention he was talking? Facing the sofa?
To no one?
Our most fabulous sitter, Kate, was there. Wednesdays are "art day" - and Zayd has an art class at a local artist's home studio - so Kate picks him up from school to take him there.
Me: Kate? Is Zayd talking?
She gives me a classic Kate look that says something like, "You know your kids as well as I do and seeing Zayd sitting facing the couch talking to no one should not surprise you but I totally agree with you - he is strange and funny - but no.. I don't think you should be alarmed."
I continue looking at Zayd.
Me: Uhm... what is he doing?
Kate: Well, he was reading to me. He was looking through all his old schoolwork and projects.
Me: Okay. But he's still talking.
Kate: Yes. I know.
She gives me the classic Kate look again.
Me: Alright then. I'm going to change clothes.
Zayd was waiting for me when I returned.
Zayd: I meant to give you this on Mother's Day.
He hands me a hot pink booklet. It is a coupon book he made. I now had coupons to redeem with Zayd good for, among other things:
1. Making dinner
2. Cleaning his room
3. A no whining day
4. No hitting his brother(s)
Me: Wow! This is great! Thank you sweetie!
I give him a hug and a kiss.
He steps back from me and stares blankly at me.
Zayd: You aren't going to use them, are you? (he says totally deadpan)
Me: Uhhhh... yeah. I kinda was.
Zayd: You are. (statement, not question).
Me: Yeah. (pause). I am. (counter statement, not question).
Zayd: I was hoping you wouldn't.
Me: Okay. Then why give it to me if you didn't want me to use it?
And, by the way, why are we having this conversation?
Zayd: Yeah. I thought about that.
Me: And... what sort of conclusion did you come to?
Zayd: I made it. So I am giving it to you.
Me: Well... alright then.
He continues to stand there - staring at me.
I have come to learn that trying to follow Zayd's logic at any given time will offer me nothing but a mild throbbing ache behind my right eye. I choose to change the topic.
Me: Why are you wearing that cape and crown?
His eyes narrow saying something like "Mom. Really? You can't be that stupid."
Zayd: I made it.
And then... well... there you go.