Moments of brilliance, moments of . . .

The children get up at an unGodly early hour every morning. Saturday night I had moved to the couch because of yet another insomniac night. Don't worry. It's not stress. More likely the raging hormones of perimenopause. So when the boys got up, they woke me with their early morning stirrings.

Firstborn, laid claim to the gamecube of course.

Lastborn searched the room for a comfortable chair so that he could watch Firstborn work his magic with Pokemon coliseum; always the ardent fan of all things Pokemon and all things Firstborn.

Flash back to Saturday, when DH and I in a rare fit of energy had decided to clean things out a bit in long-term preparation for putting the house on the market. DH carried the old glider rocking chair that is missing a bolt from someplace that I have never been able to identify. Having not been comfortable with said missing yet mysterious bolt for over a year now, I decided the chair should just be tossed. After all, no more babies to rock, and after a year, taking bets on who will be in the chair when it falls apart is no longer funny. With that chair removed, the room looks uneven. So I take the brown naugahide office chair that has been shoved in a space near the TV and place it where the rocker was. DH wants to throw this chair out because it is ugly, office like and just doesn't fit the room (his words). Ah but I have a piece of fabric in the basement that would cover it nicely. So while DH brings the kids out for a movie, I whip together a slip cover for the ugly chair and voila! We have an organized living room.

The catch? This was the chair Lastborn usually uses to watch Firstborn play gamecube. He drapes his body over it in a dubiously comfortable position with legs dangling over one hard wooden arm and head resting on the other.

So lastborn notices that his chair is gone but doesn't remark. He instead climbs into his chair (which he doesn't know is his chair because of the slip cover) and remarks, "This rocking chair doesn't feel right."

So what gave it away. This rocking chair doesn't rock? The old rocker would rock so violently when he climbed in that it would end up tipping over on top of him. Yet another reason to get rid of it. I could understand "Where is the rocking chair." I could understand "We got a new chair?" But not "This rocking chair doesn't feel right." Hmmm.

Later that morning he surprised me with genius though. When I lay on the couch, he likes to sit on top of me. Mostly, to sit on my hip. He perches up there like a bird surveying the room. Finding that the rocking chair was not rocking, he decided to climb ontop of me while I futilely attempted to sleep through their early morning play. As he positioned himself on my hip, he announced, "I'm a pain in the but!" Then he laughed and asked, "does it hurt your but when I sit on you?" "A little," I replied.

"See?" he answered. "I'm a pain in the but. Literally!"

Now. How many 6 year olds do you know who know the word literally and can use it correctly in a sentence?