Isaac

In this post I will highlight my favorite second child and son Isaac, who everyone says is just like me. Sometimes I think that idea is a funny one, other times I'm horrified. For instance, this is a conversation I overheard just this morning:

Isaac: Hey Jacob, what do flies eat? I need to feed Flyduke. [A feeble non-flying insect he captured yesterday while climbing trees.]
Jacob: I don't know.
I: Do you think I should give him some left-over pancakes from breakfast?
J: No, I think they like things like poop better.
Isaac, in a "why-didn't-I-think-of-that" voice: Yeah, we've got lots of that in the diaper pot! [Referring to the flower pot we use as our diaper receptacle.] What do you think he'd like more, old poop or fresh poop...and maybe I could give him a really stinky wet diaper to drink...? [as he makes his way to the diaper pot to pick through it.]

Being the semi-sanitary wet blanket that I am, I had to put a stop to the matter right here and give him an old banana instead of Flyduke's meal of choice. Flyduke is Isaac's one last chance regarding his unsavory pets because I found his lost snail Mugargo climbing on my kitchen knives two mornings ago. Which elicited much praise from Isaac on Mugargo's climbing skills, then he quietly explained to his snail that we shouldn't play with knives, especially when there's a mad mom around.

Isaac is your all-American boy, complete with blonde buzzed hair, sunkissed cheeks, and socks that are stretched out on top so they always sag just a little. He is rarely seen without a stick in one hand and a bug in the other. No matter how faithfully I bathe him he always seems to have dirt on his knees, under his nails, and behind the ears. I don't understand it. The boy would rather be in a tree than almost anywhere else. He's just perfect! Here's another one yesterday as we made our way back from the temple. "Mom, I don't know why we want to kill the rats in our shed. I think we should feed them and make them happy so they want to stay."
"Why is that?"
"Because rats eat garbage, and that's just what we're trying to get rid of!" Obviously, his job is to take care of the garbage. Nice thought, Isaac.

One more. Jake's been reading the Hobbit to Isaac. One day in the car they were talking and it went something like this:
Isaac: What are those guys in The Hobbit that have wide hairy feet and they go barefoot everywhere?
Jacob: Do you mean the dwarves?
I: No, I think they wear shoes.
J: Elves?
I: No, they have long skinny feet!
J: How about ogres?
I: Not ogres! I mean in The Hobbit, and they don't have ogres in The Hobbit.
J: Goblins?
I: No, I think the goblins wore shoes too. They're barefooted and hairy!
J: Hobbits?
I: Yeah!! Yeah, that's who I mean, hobbits! Thanks, Jacob, I couldn't remember!

No. He wasn't kidding. What would I do without this boy?