Tonight my son asked me when we were eating dinner. It was 7:30 p.m. He’d honestly forgotten that I made dinner and he’d eaten it. So I reminded him what we’d eaten and he seemed pretty o.k. with it after I told him.
A little later, my eleven year old asked me if we’d have a vacation this summer. I reminded her that we went to the Poconos for a week last month. Oh, she said and trotted away happily.
You know, I’m starting to think children are kinda’ dumb. This isn’t revolutionary, I know. I’ve always suspected it. They don’t remember anything. I’m thinking that for now on I’m going to save the money and not do anything with them and then just tell them we had loads of fun. I’m pretty sure they won’t know any better.