Z: "Uncle Jason, I love you."
Uncle Jason: "You just love my candy stash."
Z: "It's pretty empty right now."
Z has his training wheels off for good now. We made attempts when he was 3, but he wouldn't stop. What do training wheels have to do with stopping? No one knows. But now he has figured out stopping and therefore has no training wheels and has immediately moved on to stunting.
He is riding his bike and picking his feet off the pedals, making weird maneuvers, wobbling dangerously.
Me, riding behind him, "Mr. Lincoln! do not pull stunts while we are riding on the road!"
Z: "I AM NOT STUNTING!" Snarls, growls.
Me: "Excuse me?"
Z, Exasperated: "These... are... cool... moves." He made sure to say that very slowly so his poor, dim mother could understand.
Z,"Have you ever seen a guy ride his bike up a tree, back-flip it around, jump over a car and not fall off?'
Me, "No"
Z: "I am going to be that guy."
Me, "Just wear your helmet and keep your shoes on."
Z, "OKAY-YUH ...but that's boring"
Me, "What does boring mean, Z?"
Z, "It means I don't want to listen to you."
Eating outside and the crickets are so loud we are almost shouting over them. Dad kind of shorts a circuit and blurts,"I wish these crickets would pipe down!"
They keep cricketing.
E yelps, "Crickets! Be Silent!"
Crickets keep cricketing.
Z bellows, "HEY CRICKETS! WILL YA PIPE DOWN??!!"
Silence.
We all look at Z.
He had the same look on his face as Superman did when he realized he could fly.
"This game is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means I don't like to loose."
"Get dressed, Z"
"NO! Getting dressed is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means I want to wear my spider-man suit."
Z running around with socks on his hands, feet and sticking out of his pockets: "I am SOCK GUY!"
At Home Depot looking at paint samples. There is one of those 15 foot stairwell ladders beside us. Z takes off his shoes and socks and pulls a pair of bright pink fuzzy gloves over his feet.
"I am GLOVE ON FEET GUY!"
"Ok, buddy."
Exactly one instant later, "HEY MOM!"
Glove-on-feet-guy has just climbed the 15 foot stairwell ladder and is about to transfer himself to the very top shelf, 15 feet above me."GLOVE ON FEET GUY CAN FLY!"
Everybody in store the collectively gasps. I think someone shrieked. I laser focus on my boy.
Me: "Get...DOWN. 1...2..."
Z: "Okay OKAY! Just don't count!"
Without the power of 1...2... I would have nothing. The threat of what might happen if I get past...3 is Kryptonite for him. For some reason, I have never had to go beyond the 3 and produce anything. Which is good, because there is nothing there. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
"I want...I wish I had the Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into. I wish I had that." This is what we heard on a 45 sec loop for weeks. Any time He remembered that he wanted the Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is-square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into, he would not hesitate to remind us. Constantly.
So the day came and they we going to get a toy. They had worked for it and been good for it, and Z was in the midst of a nasty tonsil/belly double whammy, so he was going to go get a toy. When he was at the toy store, he saw a Bumble-Bee Transformer. (And this is where I admit that my husband took a sick kid to a toy store. It builds your immune system, okay? Shut-up.) Dazzled by the Transformer, he decided to get that instead.
Within a few minutes of playing with this too-complicated toy, Z realizes his mistake.
Tears and heartbreak: "I chose the wrong toy! I CHOSE THE WRONG TOY!"
Me, "You, Z, have buyer's remorse. You were dazzled by the fancy toy, and you forgot about what you really wanted. Remember this, kiddo, this is important stuff."
Z, "I didn't want a horse! I wanted a Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is-square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into! You are boring, MUM!"
Me, "What does boring mean, Z?"
Z, "It means I got the wrong toy!"
"This walk is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means, my feet hurt."
Reading an encyclopedia for kids about atoms, we discover that the nucleus of an atom is like a bean and the atom is a football field and the rest is space. The kids deduct from this that since there is so much space between the nucleus and it's atom, they should be able to run through "solid" objects, like the wall. So they try. And try. I stopped the experiment before concussions, though. Gotta love science!
"This food is boring."
"What does boring mean,Z?"
"It means not really very good."
Z: "When I go to sleep a night, My friend Wolfie comes and gets me and I ride his back all night. Then in the morning, he waits for me in the woods until I sleep again."
I have animal friends in the forest, and if you don't give me a popsicle, I will make them eat you.
Z was mad at Mum and Dad. Mad in the fist clenching snarl-faced way that only a furious 4 year old can be. He is forbidden to use the word "Stupid" and had been sent from the table for calling his food "boring". As he leaves to go to the stairs, positively vibrating in anger, he turns to us and through clenched teeth and squinched eyes he says: "You, you, you....you......PIGGY BALLS!"
Have you ever tried to maintain "Stern Parent Face" Whilst choking with laughter? It hurts.
Uncle Jason: "You just love my candy stash."
Z: "It's pretty empty right now."
Z has his training wheels off for good now. We made attempts when he was 3, but he wouldn't stop. What do training wheels have to do with stopping? No one knows. But now he has figured out stopping and therefore has no training wheels and has immediately moved on to stunting.
He is riding his bike and picking his feet off the pedals, making weird maneuvers, wobbling dangerously.
Me, riding behind him, "Mr. Lincoln! do not pull stunts while we are riding on the road!"
Z: "I AM NOT STUNTING!" Snarls, growls.
Me: "Excuse me?"
Z, Exasperated: "These... are... cool... moves." He made sure to say that very slowly so his poor, dim mother could understand.
Z,"Have you ever seen a guy ride his bike up a tree, back-flip it around, jump over a car and not fall off?'
Me, "No"
Z: "I am going to be that guy."
Me, "Just wear your helmet and keep your shoes on."
Z, "OKAY-YUH ...but that's boring"
Me, "What does boring mean, Z?"
Z, "It means I don't want to listen to you."
Eating outside and the crickets are so loud we are almost shouting over them. Dad kind of shorts a circuit and blurts,"I wish these crickets would pipe down!"
They keep cricketing.
E yelps, "Crickets! Be Silent!"
Crickets keep cricketing.
Z bellows, "HEY CRICKETS! WILL YA PIPE DOWN??!!"
Silence.
We all look at Z.
He had the same look on his face as Superman did when he realized he could fly.
"This game is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means I don't like to loose."
"Get dressed, Z"
"NO! Getting dressed is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means I want to wear my spider-man suit."
Z running around with socks on his hands, feet and sticking out of his pockets: "I am SOCK GUY!"
At Home Depot looking at paint samples. There is one of those 15 foot stairwell ladders beside us. Z takes off his shoes and socks and pulls a pair of bright pink fuzzy gloves over his feet.
"I am GLOVE ON FEET GUY!"
"Ok, buddy."
Exactly one instant later, "HEY MOM!"
Glove-on-feet-guy has just climbed the 15 foot stairwell ladder and is about to transfer himself to the very top shelf, 15 feet above me."GLOVE ON FEET GUY CAN FLY!"
Everybody in store the collectively gasps. I think someone shrieked. I laser focus on my boy.
Me: "Get...DOWN. 1...2..."
Z: "Okay OKAY! Just don't count!"
Without the power of 1...2... I would have nothing. The threat of what might happen if I get past...3 is Kryptonite for him. For some reason, I have never had to go beyond the 3 and produce anything. Which is good, because there is nothing there. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
"I want...I wish I had the Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into. I wish I had that." This is what we heard on a 45 sec loop for weeks. Any time He remembered that he wanted the Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is-square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into, he would not hesitate to remind us. Constantly.
So the day came and they we going to get a toy. They had worked for it and been good for it, and Z was in the midst of a nasty tonsil/belly double whammy, so he was going to go get a toy. When he was at the toy store, he saw a Bumble-Bee Transformer. (And this is where I admit that my husband took a sick kid to a toy store. It builds your immune system, okay? Shut-up.) Dazzled by the Transformer, he decided to get that instead.
Within a few minutes of playing with this too-complicated toy, Z realizes his mistake.
Tears and heartbreak: "I chose the wrong toy! I CHOSE THE WRONG TOY!"
Me, "You, Z, have buyer's remorse. You were dazzled by the fancy toy, and you forgot about what you really wanted. Remember this, kiddo, this is important stuff."
Z, "I didn't want a horse! I wanted a Carmel-coloured-Gogogon-that-has-white-stripes-that-is-square-and-I-don't-know-what-it-turns-into! You are boring, MUM!"
Me, "What does boring mean, Z?"
Z, "It means I got the wrong toy!"
"This walk is boring!"
"What does boring mean, Z?"
"It means, my feet hurt."
Reading an encyclopedia for kids about atoms, we discover that the nucleus of an atom is like a bean and the atom is a football field and the rest is space. The kids deduct from this that since there is so much space between the nucleus and it's atom, they should be able to run through "solid" objects, like the wall. So they try. And try. I stopped the experiment before concussions, though. Gotta love science!
"This food is boring."
"What does boring mean,Z?"
"It means not really very good."
Z: "When I go to sleep a night, My friend Wolfie comes and gets me and I ride his back all night. Then in the morning, he waits for me in the woods until I sleep again."
I have animal friends in the forest, and if you don't give me a popsicle, I will make them eat you.
Z was mad at Mum and Dad. Mad in the fist clenching snarl-faced way that only a furious 4 year old can be. He is forbidden to use the word "Stupid" and had been sent from the table for calling his food "boring". As he leaves to go to the stairs, positively vibrating in anger, he turns to us and through clenched teeth and squinched eyes he says: "You, you, you....you......PIGGY BALLS!"
Have you ever tried to maintain "Stern Parent Face" Whilst choking with laughter? It hurts.
 |
| "The snarlface" |
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| I just wanted to be "Red Hands and Foot Guy..." |
 |
| What do you mean, "stand normally" This IS my normal! |
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