One day the three-year old was acting really cranky, and so my husband said, “See? We shouldn’t take him to a movie–he can’t handle it; it makes him cranky.”
I could see the look in AB’s face that he wanted to say something. I know this kid and how we will spot a tiny flaw in something and feel a desperate need to point it out. Honestly, it gets tiring at times, and we’ve tried to let him know that this behavior is not exactly a trait that endears one to people. I get the way his mind works, though. He has an ability to spot tiny flaws or holes in logic and it bothers him–it’s an itch he can’t help but scratch.
“Abdullah,” I said quickly, “I know EXACTLY what you want to say right now, and I’m telling you, just don’t say it. I know Baba will not like it, so wait until later and then say it.” Baba is old school and I don’t think he’d appreciate his logic having holes poked in it by a fourth-grader.
“You know?” Abdullah said. “How do you know what I’m going to say?”
“I’m your mom: I can read your mind.”
He wiggled. He held his hand over his mouth, dying to say his piece. He then asked, “Is it something with a C and a C?”
“Yep,” I replied. “I told you I’m a mind-reader. I knew it.”
Siraj had gotten curious by now and then asked, “Ok, ok, what is this about?”
“Confusing correlation with causation,” we answered. “The movie and the crankiness.”
“You’re right,” he said, “I think I would have gotten irritated.”
I could feel his pain–it wasn’t too long ago that I was saying something when my nasally-sounding 9 year old interrupted to say, “Mama, I think you are mixing correlation with causation.” Please, God, let him outgrow this before high school.