Like Father, Like Son.

Our firstborn child, Will, is typically a very laid back, go-with-the-flow, completely unstressed about life, calm type of child.

Unfortunately for me, he has also picked up on his father’s dry, sarcastic wit as well. And he used it to full effect on me a couple of days ago.

Here’s the scene: I’m sitting at the kitchen table working with Weslea on her homework. The two youngest boys are in the living room very loudly debating who can race better in Mario Kart on Wii. And, out of the corner of my eye, I can see that Will is climbing up onto the kitchen countertop to look for something (who knows what!) on the top of the refrigerator.

I look back down at Weslea’s homework and not five seconds later I hear a large crashing noise…right from the spot below where Will had been standing on the countertop.

I immediately yell out “Are you okay Will?!”

No answer.

I stand up and get ready to run over there repeating “Will? Are you okay buddy?!”

I finally reach him, where he is picking himself up off the floor, and realize that he is sobbing. My calm, cool, collected 10-year-old who rarely cries is sobbing his eyes out. Actual tears and all.

“Where are you hurt? Can you show me where it hurts? Will, what’s wrong…where does it hurt?” I’m saying loudly over the sound of his sobbing while I anxiously check him over for any noticeable bleeding.

And then…(this is where his father’s Sweatiepy part of him comes into action)…that rotten boy completely stopped sobbing and began laughing his head off.

While I stood there utterly flabbergasted, he gasped out a loud “Tricked you mom! That was soooooo funny!”

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I absolutely put the blame for that whole scenario squarely on Sweatiepy’s shoulders.