No Thoughts, Just Nerf

I often wonder what’s going on inside Noah’s head. Every day, I come to the same conclusion: absolutely no idea. Sometimes I’m convinced you could travel a thousand light-years through the void of his mind and not bump into a single pebble—but other times, I know he understands far more than he lets on. I’ve mentioned him pulling the “Downs Card” before. You ask him a question, and he just stares blankly at you like you’re the village idiot. Then, when you threaten some sort of consequence for not answering, he heaves a dramatic sigh and finally responds, as if you’re really putting a kink in his day.

This morning, I dropped him off at the ol’ folks’ home (ahem, Granddaddy and Sittee’s house). He hops out, strolls to the back, and pops the trunk. Out comes the bookbag. I see him heading for the front door, so I start to pull away.

One last glance in the rearview mirror, and there’s Noah—clearly thrilled—as he staggers toward the door in that awkward gait we call his “run,” waving his Nerf gun triumphantly. He’d tried to bring it to the car earlier, but I’d nixed that plan (or so I thought).

I have no idea what his plans were for the day, but judging by the prized weapon and his swagger, I’d guess it involved holding Sittee hostage until she produced his favorite breakfast and worshiped him like the little tyrant god-king she’s believed him to be since birth.

If Noah’s antics made you laugh (or question your own sanity), be sure to follow the blog for more of his daily adventures. You can also join us on Facebook—because chaos is always better when shared.