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The art of imitation

November 18, 2009

My son thinks I’m cool.  I really like that about him.

“Cool” is maybe an exaggeration. But he considers much of what I do  worthy of imitation. And because I spend a lot of time with teenagers, I know I should cherish this kind of attention and interest.

He wants to turn on the lights, wash his hands. He pretends to fold laundry. He sorts through cds and spice jars, examining each one before returning it to its place (there, he might be suggesting more than mimicking).

When it’s too dark outside to let him play mow the lawn or caulk the seams or drive the car, he comes inside to pretend to pour coffee, make waffles, puree things in the blender, dry lettuce in the salad spinner.

He de-fuzzes his pants with my lint roller. He brushes his hair and pretends to blow-dry it. He flips through magazines and stares intently at illustration-free pages. He sweeps the floor.

In this case it isn’t a form of flattery at all, just sincere parroting. I love it just the same.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. November 23, 2009 2:41 pm

    Awwww! I’d love it too! Very sweet! (or cool!) =)

  2. November 28, 2009 3:13 pm

    So sweet! It awesome to write these memories down. I crack up when I find Nicolo standing on the stool in the powder room using my brush on his hair.

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