My six year old is at the kitchen table, working on a complex art project of his own devising that includes Pokemon and jack-o-lanterns. “What’s for dinner?” he asks.
“Pizza.” I tell him. I know it’s his favourite.
“Sick!” he replies.
I roll my eyes. I really thought I had another half-dozen or so years before we got here. “Hey hipster-baby,” I say. “Where did you get that word from?”
“Internet,” he replies.
Sick.
vickiz
Interesting article in the Globe and Mail today:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20090210.wlkidsploitations10/BNStory/lifeFamily/home
It’s a fine line between sharing family life and potentially putting something out into the ether that you or your children will regret in years to come. I originally read this in the print version of the Globe this morning, and then was dismayed to find that the online version included the link to the worrisome video of the post-dentist appointment child.