Filter THIS!

There is no filter between Cole's brain and his mouth. He routinely says things that either bust me up laughing or turn me bright red. He's honest to a fault. Obviously, politics is not his calling. I'm thinking something in the interrogation field, or maybe an IRS auditor. Anyway, recently we took my in-laws to NYC. We decided to take the subway from Penn Station to Ground Zero. We manage to herd the cats - er, people, sorry - onto the subway without injury, and all seven of us managed to sit in seven separate places. Cole and Katie were standing, actually, holding onto one of the poles. SEPARATE poles of course. Heaven forbid we sit in the same zip code as one of our siblings. We are rumbling along, and a young disheveled black man steps up and says, "Ladies and Gentlemen..."

Let me pause here, and say that at this point, for just one small second, I truly thought I was about to have to fork over my debit card to him and/or jump in front of one or more of my children. Fortunately, this was not the case.

Back to the story. The man is saying something about he's been down on his luck, blah blah blah. I tuned him out. I heard something about "...and any change you could give me is appreciated." Immediately I heard a very familiar voice call out,

"Mister, hey mister!! I need to tell you something!"

It's kind of like when you see one of the kid's cup of milk about to tip over, and it sort of goes slo-mo in your mind. You know it's tipping over, you know it's going to spill all over the table, soaking your important papers, oozing into the cracks where you'll never get it out, and in the theater of your mind, you can reach for it and stop it in time. However, this is not the case in real life. While the theater in your mind is playing, the cup goes ahead and spills (I knew I should have put it in a sippy cup!! Dadgummit!!!). This is what I was experiencing in the subway. I knew what was about to go down, I knew Cole was going to interact with him somehow, I just couldn't stop him in time!

"Mister" walks over to Cole, and holds out the beaten paper cup. Cole, still holding onto the pole, says, "Mister-I-need-to-tell-you-something-I-don't-have-any-change-but-he-does (pointing to Dan). Mister looks over at Dan as Dan shakes his head back and forth. Cole looks at Dan, then back at Mister, and says, "Yes-he-does-he's-lying!" But he doesn't stop there. Cole points to the other end of the car where my father-in-law is seated, and says, "And he's loaded!"

I am happy to report Mister didn't get any of Dan's change he was lying about, or any of my father-in-law's change. As soon as I could lay hands on Cole, I very sweetly discussed with him the dangers of talking to someone ON A NEW YORK CITY SUBWAY and how Mister very well could have had other, not so innocent motives.

Naturally, we opted out of taking the subway the next time and instead took a cab. NYC has a fleet of new cabs, all very light on the carbon footprint, and all approximately the size of oh, say, a walnut. So the seven of us stuff ourselves into one, and naturally Cole is on the floor. I'm not going to go into detail here about all the possible fungi that were probably growing there, instead you can use your imagination. Of course, Cole's shoe came off. I would readily bet that he took it off, but since I didn't personally observe him do that, I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt. So his shoe is off, and he's rummaging around on the floor of a NYC cab (full body shiver). Suddenly he screams, "Hey Mister Taxi Cab Driver, can you turn the lights on in here!!!" Omar al-abdullah doesn't answer because he doesn't speak English. Cole keeps on, vying for top voice over both Dan and me trying to shut him up, "Mister!! Mister Taxi Cab Driver!! Turn the lights on!!" Mind you, it's the middle of the day, but there were enough arms and legs to essentially render the floorboard dark, so it's a fair request really.

Omar doesn't respond, but Dan says, "Stop the cab! LET. US. OUT. HERE."

We're hoofing it from here.

The rest of our trip to NYC was fairly uneventful, thankfully. We returned with all three of our children -- or at least, three blonde young-ish white children...I think they're ours...

Fast forward to this afternoon. Jack is in an instructional baseball league at All Stars Baseball Academy, and his last game was today. All Stars has an enormous indoor ball field, and parents have to watch the game from upstairs, so as not to distract the boys (someone thought this out). It's really actually hard to watch, because 1) you can't hear since you're watching through windows, and 2) there are a zillion nets set up to catch stray balls through which you cannot see very well. The upstairs lounge, if you will, is very nice, with two sets of small bleachers, several tables and chairs, vending machines, a ping-pong table, a tv always playing sports, and even an fireplace. Dan and I are seated on the first row of bleachers constantly asking each other, where-is-he, is-that-him?!?!, who's-playing-catcher, etc. Katie and Cole have started playing with a little girl close to their age, and seem to be getting along. Soon a middle-aged woman (and I'm being kind here) comes up and says to the little girl, "(So-and-so), it's time to go, I'm through working out." Cole says,

"You look so old. Why do you look so old?"

Stupidly, she chooses to interact with him...

Woman says, "Why do you look so young?"

Cole persists: "You look really old, are you her grandma?"

Woman replies, "No, I'm her MOTHER."

Ugh....

Somehow, it still manages to get worse...

Before Cole can respond to this revelation, "mother" volunteers,

"And I'm not the only one. She has TWO moms."

?!?

I can hear the confusion in his voice as he responds, "What?!? Why would she have two moms??"

And with that announcement, Mom and daughter walk off...

I confess that Dan and I sat there with our backs to the whole incident, feigning ignorance, like we didn't even know him. Glancing at each other, both of us faces flushed, trying our best to act like we didn't know the child and ignoring the conversation. Eventually, hearing nothing, Dan turns around and then reports in a whisper, "They're gone." And without waiting for my response, growls,

"COLE!!!"

So he had a very calm, rational discussion with Cole about NOT SAYING SUCH THINGS TO PEOPLE BECAUSE IT'S RUUUUUUDE.

Holy cow. We weren't exactly ready to discuss with any of them the whole two-mother, two-father thing. Fortunately, Cole hasn't brought it up yet, and we plan on letting that sleeping dog lie!

Why she felt compelled to volunteer the information about the whole two-mother household thing is beyond me, but we were quite grateful she left when she did, and that Cole didn't pursue the issue.

He has a great sense of humor, and a quick wit. I just hope and pray he learns how to channel some degree of filtering between whatever his brain puts out and what comes out of his mouth!