Seven years ago today, right about now (10pm), Everett came into this world pink and pudgy and not at all breathing. For thirty seconds, he took no breath and made no sound. If I had known then what I know now, I would have enjoyed those thirty seconds more. It was the last moment of silence I would ever experience in his presence again.
In fact, he seems to have made a point to make up for those first few tense moments by cracking us up at every possible moment. By age 3, he had developed quite the fan following on Facebook for my “Everett (Age 3)” posts based on things he said. Over the ensuing years, it became “Everett (age 4)” and “Everett (age 5)” and now it’ll be “Everett (age 7).” For your enjoyment, and in celebration of his birthday, here’s a collection of the Best of Everett (Age X).
Everett (Age 3)
Everett: Do you love my eyes? I love your eyes. They are super pretty.
Me: Aww… Ow! What are you doing?
Everett: I’m going to steal them and keep them for myself. <Poke!>
Everett: I HATE you Mommy!
Me: Everett, that’s not a good thing to say.
Everett (after a moment’s thought): Well then, what SHOULD I say when I hate someone?
Everett: You have three choices Mommy. Yes, or yes, or not no.
Everett: What does it mean when you make me go sit on the stairs?
Me: Well, what do you think it means?
Everett: It means… that you still love me.
Me: Mmm… true…
Everett (after a moment’s thought): And that you’re a jerk.
Everett, Age 4
Everett: Mommy. First of all, I need to go poop. Second of all, you need to wipe my butt. Got it? That’s my plan.
Scene: The car.
Everett: Doo, when I get to be a big person, like you, I’m going to be a good driver.
Carey: You’re going to be a good driver like me?
Everett: No no no. I’m not going to yell at the other people when I drive.
The boy loves his mama.
Carey (singing Guns N Roses): Everett, do ya wanna down to the paradise city, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty?
Everett: But Doo. The grass IS green. (Meeting my eyes with a dimpled smile) And Mommy’s the girl and SHE is pretty.
But also keeps her humble.
Everett, investigating my hands: Mommy, you’re getting old.
After a moment’s thought: I guess I will have to get a new mommy.
Hopping down to go play: When you die soon. Bye.
Everett gets up from the table explaining that he needs to go poop. One minute later, we hear a call from the bathroom: “Nope. I didn’t need to poop. It was just a fart.” Pause. “Do I still have to wash my hands?”
Everett absorbs everything like a sponge, including salty words he may hear in passing. He understands we prefer him not to use certain words, so when in doubt he asks whether a word is okay or not. One day, sitting on the toilet, singing and chattering:
Oooo, I’m singing on the toilet going poop right now! Oooooo!! I’m going poop and it’s not coming out… It’s a hard one, Oooo, this one’s really a …
Me: Yes, baby?
Everett: Can I say, “son of a b*tch”?
Everett (Age 5)
Everett: Who’s going to be the first one in our family to smoke? Oh, I know, Doo.
Eli (Age 9): No, Doo doesn’t smoke.
Everett: I know. So I’m going to be the first one.
Eli: No, you don’t want to do that. Smoking is bad for you.
Everett: Why? Do bad guys smoke?
Eli: No, it’s bad for your throat.
Everett: Then why do people do it?
Eli: Because it doesn’t hurt right away. It’s bad for it eventually. And then you have to have surgery and have your throat taken out and a new one put in.
Everett: Does it hurt?
Eli: No, but…
Everett: Then I’m going to smoke.
Everett (Age 6)
Everett: Eli, if we were in a survival situation and all we had was Mommy, would you care if the food was burned?
Me: Okay, no kissing on the mouth right now. On the cheek.
Everett: Because my tongue is out?
Everett: Do you want to tongue kiss?
Me: Um. No. No, not ever. Nope. Parents don’t tongue kiss with kids.
Everett: Do you and Doo tongue kiss?
Me: Well. Yes. Sometimes.
Everett: You mean like this? [Sticks his tongue out] And then you put your tongues together?
Me: Well, sort of…
Everett: Or you put your mouths together like a regular kiss, and then put your tongues in each other’s mouths?
Me: Um. Yes. That.
Everett: Okay. I’m not disgusted. I’m just like, ‘okay.’
Me: How.. why… what just happened?
Everett: I just asked you about kissing.
Everett, on the way to Petsmart: When I have a pet, I don’t know which kind to get.
Me: Well, what’s important to you in a pet?
Everett: I want it to talk.
Me: You’ll have to have a parrot then. They’re expensive!
Everett: And I want to train it to sit and come.
Me: Oh. A dog does that… but not the talking…
Everett: And I want it to play with me, like pretend games and computer games.
Me: … Um. I think you don’t want a pet. You want another kid.
Everett: Yeah. How much to adopt one of those?