Jackson-isms Part 2

And so begins part 2 of Jackson-isms. These are a reflection of our summer in Alabama. I must admit, Jackson has picked up a deep southern accent while spending time with my dad this summer. He says things that I know could have only come from daddy. Many southerners talk a little slower than others but Daddy really lays it on thick. Jackson has not only picked up the southern drawl but also the Suuuuthern draaaawwwlll. One of my Dad’s favorite sayings to Jackson since he was a baby is “You ain’t worth a dime!” said in the most endearing way of course. It’s always been one of dad’s sayings and apparently it is a show of affection. Well, on several occasions this summer, I overheard Jackson tell his “Paw-Paw”, “You ain’t worth a dime? Right?”

In July, we made a trip to the beach and along the way, Jackson and my dad had quite a few conversations about boy worthy things. On our way across the East Pass bridge in Destin, FL, Jackson says to me, “ I tell you what…there’s a lotta boats in that pond right there.” He was referring to the bay! He also asked if God left the water hose running to fill that with water. WHERE do they come up with this stuff?

In a kitchen table conversation with my dad, Jackson asks, “Why do you sleep with your shirt off? My Dad (Jason) sleeps with his shirt off too but my mommy doesn’t and I don’t either.” How do you explain that to a 3 year old?

I recently bought Jackson a whoopee cushion at the Target dollar spot. He had a million laughs blowing it up and sitting on it himself. He would beg some unsuspecting relative to come sit next to him where it obviously lay and he would melt in giggles as they obliged and sat on it. When it met its demise, someone sat on it and it burst and Jackson proclaimed, “Hey, you broke my pootie pad!” I guess the whoopee cushion now has a new title.

How do you know that you’ve let the need to shave go too long even for a wife of a deployed soldier? When you’re holding you’re three year old with a tank top on and he reaches under your arm and innocently says, “Is that you’re lil’ thorn bush mom? It’s prickly.” Yes, I admit I must have let it get that bad but now that I have a living reminder, I’ll try to do better.

At my mom and dad’s house, the cat food is on the bathroom counter (to prevent the dog from eating it). Jackson decided early in the summer that he was scared of the cat food, yes, SCARED!?! He would squeal when he would go into the bathroom if it was on the floor or counter and my mom would run in and “rescue” him. I deemed his fear Catfood-a-phobia. The cure for catfood-a-phobia? Having your mom chase you around the yard threatening to hold you down and make you eat it. Ok, so maybe it didn’t cure him but it called his bluff on his “designed to get Nana’s attention” tactics.

One day outside in the toy box Dad and Jackson found a black widow spider. Dad went on to explain the danger of them to Jackson so that he would be aware of them. Later that day, Jackson came into my room and told me that he was here to save me from the black widow spider! He’s my little hero. (I have severe arachnophobia)
On another spider note, my mom is a science teacher and she had oddly taken in a tarantula as a classroom pet. She is compassionate of my fear and leaves the creature at school for the summer. Before school began she checked on it and found that it had molted its skin and she cruelly brought it home and showed me. We also showed Jackson and he said (in his best southern drawl), “that’s a BIG black widow spider.” Although he obviously doesn’t share my same fear.

If you know us well, you know the rivalry among our family with Jason being such a HUGE devoted stalking Alabama fan and I am a sophisticated, intelligent Auburn fan (see the rivalry now?) Jason has determined to make the children lean towards his side of college football and for Jackson, the war might be lost. I’m still working on Lincoln. The boys and I recently went to Auburn to visit my college roommate. As I was packing, Jackson asked where we were going and I told him we were going to go to Auburn today. He started crying like a baby and said, “I don’t want to go to Auburn, I’m an Alabama fan!” Yeah, I’d say his daddy has him brainwashed. Typical Alabama fan, huh.

Jackson has been into catching bugs all summer. He has several bug catchers and he’s caught lightening bugs, beetles and several frogs and crickets. Most recently, he caught a tree frog and during the night it sadly died. We threw it out and of course, Jackson asked about it. Mom and Dad explained that one. I later asked him about his frog and he said it just died. In true Jackson fashion, I pressed him as to WHY? He said “sometimes they just die.” I said why? He said “well, something killed him.” I continued the questioning and asked what killed it? He thought for a minute and said “Fertilizer.” I was intrigued so I asked further, how is it that the fertilizer killed the frog? He said (with hand motions), “it just got in his organs.” There you have it folks, infinite wisdom of a three year old.

And last but not least, as we resume a more military life style back at Ft. Bragg, this seemed fitting. Jackson was recently playing at a park around dusk when he asked me, “Mom, when are they going to play reveille?” That is a true sign; I’m raising a military brat!

That’s it for Jackson-isms part 2. Ya’ll come back now, ya hear!