Apples Falling From Trees

It's funny how your kids do things that you did when you were little. We tell our two all the time, "You can't be sneaky. We either did it before or thought about it." And usually we were just a little bit better than them at pulling it off.
Tonight our son was busted. We took for granted that he gets in there and does what he is supposed to do... take a shower! I mean it was easy to believe: he always got his towel, soap always there, we saw him get in and close the door, and the hook- he was always singing! Then he would get out, dry off, put his pajamas on and use the little squeegee to clean it out. And there is always steam.
Well he came in our room just after getting out of the shower tonight with the towel wrapped around him- pajamas in hand- to ask if he could stay up a little later.
"Hey! Your skin is unbelievably dry if you just got out the shower," Dude said.
No response.
"Did you take a shower?" Dude asked him.
He nodded.
"It just don't seem like your body has gotten wet," Dude said while looking him over.
I began visualizing myself decades ago. Running the water, then waiting for the bathroom mirrors to get foggy from the steam so I could draw little stick people. Or I would stand in front of the mirror and rehearse what I was going to say to the boy who sat behind me on the bus and pulled my hair. He would then pretend to be asleep. Oh yes, I told him off... in the bathroom mirror. I don't know why I did that.
But now, here was our little seven-year-old busted for the same thing.
He looked over at me as if he wanted me to save him. My look to him: You're on your own buddy.
"Get in that shower and put some soap on your body and wash!" Dude told him.
"You mean I gotta use soap?" our son cried.
I guided him back to the bathroom quickly before Dude stood up.

Strong Enough For A Man But Made For A Woman

One day the naivete will wear off. I just know it will. BUT WHEN????
Our little seven-year-old believes whatever his nine-year-old, cut-from-a-different-cloth, sister tells him.
She could tell him money grows on trees and he would be waiting for some bills to bud.
Well... the other night we were awakened by a smell. Sometimes, something as simple as a smell can make you feel a little nostalgic. I sat up in the bed and thought about my grandmother who has been deceased for more than twenty-five years. She wore an old, strong deodorant called "Tussy". That is what I smelled.
Dude finally woke up too.
We turned the light on. Isn't it funny that we often say that we cut the light on. Okay, okay- back to the story.
There was our son, in the wee hours of the morning... with the smell all over him.
"What in the world?" I asked, while covering my nose.
"We smelled something and she (referring to his sister) said it was me. She said I smelled," he began to tell us.
"But you just took a shower!" Dude told him.
"Well she said she could make me smell good so she put that stuff she use to make her arms smell good, on me," he continued.
Dude looked at me. I closed my eyes.
He actually allowed his sister, who is a minor too, rub Secret deodorant all over him in the still of the night. I mean it was in his hair, on his neck and partially on his pajamas.
I guess their slogan is true: "Secret...strong enough for a (little) man but made for a (little) woman."