Diplomacy

Diplomacy. Tactfulness. Discretion.

All lovely words. Words, though, that are a complete mystery to most nine-year-old boys, including Seth. One thing you can be sure of with Seth is that you will receive the honest truth, however brutal, in all situations. But diplomacy, tactfulness, and discretion.....not so much.

Two recent incidents illustrate this.

A week or so ago, Lindsey was coming over, so we could purchase airline tickets. We are going to San Antonio next month to once again visit our best friend Celeste who moved there nearly a year ago. I had told Lindsey to come over anytime because our day was totally laid back. When she arrived at the door, we were just finishing dinner. Before she could even ascend the stairs, Seth shouted, "She can't play, Lindsey. We're having dinner!"

Then just yesterday, I was doing my P90X daily workout. I must confess that this second time around (I finished the first 90-day sequence a couple weeks ago), I've tended to replace the yoga day with something else. The thing is, I just HATE the yoga. It's so hard. It hurts. It's 90 minutes of agony. I fear if I told myself I had to do yoga once a week, I might not do the program at all. So instead of the yoga day, I do something else like plyometrics. As a side note, the website for P90X is beachbody.com. Seth is obviously keeping track of my progress, and the following conversation resulted:

Seth: Don't you EVER do yoga anymore?

Me: Well, I haven't done it in a while.

Seth: Why not?

Me: Um, because it's really hard for me, and I hate it.

Seth: Too bad, Mom. No beach body for you.