JP doesn't like me. Either that, or I'm just not cool enough for him to waste his breath on when it's not absolutely necessary. The latter is something I expected, but not for another seven years or so.
I picked him up from piano today and, as we walked the halls of Downtown Elementary, I asked him about his day, about homework and about piano. His answers were succinct: Good. No. Fine.
Then we went to the computer room to pick C up from computer club and suddenly JP was animated and forthcoming and laughing. Is C cooler than me? I don't think so. I was picking him up from computer club!
This happens all the time. I can't get JP to open up, but when he's around his siblings or friends, he's the life of the party. Can't shut him up, and I've tried.
So what do I do? I eavesdrop. On the drive home he and C were talking about these comic book-journal-sketch pad things they'd recently gotten at a book fair. In it, you could design your dream home and they talked openly to each other about their plans. JP's plan for the master bedroom in his house involves a flat screen television, hot tub and bed that folds up into a couch.
I'm not sure I designed my own dream bedroom at seven-years-old, but I'm pretty sure that if I had, it wouldn't have looked like that. A TV I could see, but I'm not so sure size was an issue. I don't know that I'd dream of a hot tub. A pool, maybe. And a sofa bed? What's the point of that?
Maybe JP doesn't talk to me about these things because I ridicule him. If not to his face, then to the internet. Could he be reading Urf! at school? Did he even wish for a computer in his dream master bedroom? He probably won't answer if I ask him. He doesn't talk to me. But, he chats up his peers, so I would suggest, with his large screen television and hot tub, that you parents out there hide your daughters ... sometime in 2019.