Pentomino hell

Anybody know what a Pentomino is?  Yeah, me either.  Click here if you want some information on them so you have some idea what I'm talking about.  I have no choice.  I'm learning about them though.  My son's been harping about getting some for the past several days and if I could pull one out of my ass I would.  He's been driving me that insane about it.  Every waking moment he's been inserting his love of Pentomino's into any and every conversation.

He is actually going up to people and talking to them about Pentomino's.  On the one hand I'm all like, "Yay, spontaneous conversation, social skills at work."  And on the other hand I'm all like, "Ok, that's enough now, they don't want to know that much, you're freaking the neighbor out now."

This talking about Pentomino's roughly translates to following me around the house, talking at me for the last several days non-stop where ever and when ever he can.

While I'm on the toilet:  
"Mom, can we get some Pentomino's?  You can do them while you poo, you know."

"Why no, Alex I didn't know that.  While you're in here, can you be a good boy and hand mommy a new roll of toilet paper?"

Must remember to lock the door next time...I may or may not have been pooing.  

While on the computer:
"Hey mom, did you know I can do Pentomino's while you work?  I can you know."

"No, I didn't know that.  That would be great."

"Well if you want, I can open up a new window and look at some for you.  I think I can get you to Amazon..."

Must continue to reinforce that "work" consists of hiding out in the office...

While making dinner:
"Mom, are you thinking about those Pentomino's?  Because you're awfully quiet.  That usually means you're up to something.  Are you up to buying Pentomino's yet?  Because I can go to the office and get you to Amazon...."

Gawd, do we have a shrimp fork in the kitchen?  I think I could ram that in my ears...no, we don't have a shrimp fork.  That's still OK.  I think I can find some wooden skewers in here somewhere.  How long is this going to keep this up?  He's got more tenacity than a salmon swimming upstream and well, I don't.  

While in the car:
"Hey moooom, do you know Lizzy and I can do Pentomino's in the car?  We could if we had some you know.  The kind at school come in a plastic bin that can fit right back here in between our two car seats," he says as he motions to the space filled with all sorts of other crap that's migrated its way to the back.  "Do you think we can drive past school so you can see what they look like?"

While gripping the steering wheel I manage to eek out, "Don't we have those little diamond thingies you guys had in the car?  We had some and you guys just dumped them out all over the floor back there.  No, I'm not getting those in the car.  Not again."

"No, No, NO!!  Those are NOT Pentomino's.  Those are Tangoes.  And they're way too easy.  I can't have those!  And they're triangles not diamonds, mom. "  His voice is strained.  I look up in the rear-view and see he's starting to flap around back there.  Uh oh.

This could get really ugly, really fast.

He's clearly upset with my misunderstanding the facts.  "Pentomino's are way harder, mom!"  Arms waving, amping up.

I had a brief glimpse of a major meltdown in the car.

Not good.

I tried a diversionary tacit, "Hey guys, how big is Aunt Fanny's butt?  Do you think it's as big as an airplane?"

It worked...Oh thank the Lord.  Must remember to negotiate something with God for this small favor....

While on the toilet again, this time door locked, Alex sitting outside:
"Hey mom, did you know the door is locked?  How can I tell you about Pentomino's with the door locked?!?  Wait, wait, I know....I'll just talk louder at the door so you can hear!  Wow!!  That's good thinking on my part!  HEY MOM, DID YOU KNOW YOU CAN DO PENTOMINO'S WHILE YOU'RE GOING POO?  NO??  WELL YOU CAN, YOU KNOW!!"

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, grant me the wisdom to get through this day and buy some mother fucking Pentomino's before I kill my child and bury him in the back yard.  


And that is how my son ran as fast as I've ever seen him in his entire life when I told him to go get my wallet and bring it to the office.   He pulled out the credit card in under 0.0011th of a second and we had an order placed in about two minutes flat.

My silence lasted about one whole minute.

One beautiful, blissful minute.

Long enough for his neurons to process and start up with, "Do you know the tracking number?  Because if we had the UPS tracking number we could find out when the Pentomino's will get here.  Do you know when the Pentomino's will get here, mom?"