#77

I'm raising a smart-ass. Maybe two. But at least one. I started to suspect the other day when Isaac asked me if I was going to get a haircut for the wedding. That wasn't the smart-ass part. Ike was just making sort of a lame joke, which in my book just makes a three-year-old, not a smart-ass. The smart-ass-ness came when I answered Isaac with the obligatory, "Oh, Isaac, you're so silly! I don't have any hair!" Jack smirks at me and says, "Sure you don't dad...Except for there, and there, and there, and there....."

He wasn't pointing out my beard, either.

My fear (pride?) was confirmed the other day. Jack was holding forth on many different subjects while he stood at a public urinal with his pants at his ankles.

"Ya know, dad? I drink a LOT of water (he does). But I don't pee a lot. (also true)
You DON'T drink a lot of water, but you pee ALL THE TIME." (Guilty as charged)

My 5 year old son, still standing bow-legged and bare assed at the pissoir, looks at me sideways and asks:

"HEY! Are you peeing my water??!!"