Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Just a couple quick thoughts to share today as I'm prepping for our third annual road trip to Ohio. I will get back to blogging about something besides my son, but these are too good to pass up.
Overheard from the dirt pile a few weeks back, the one in our driveway that I spent a week carting to the back yard:
Oops, better get my toys out of the dirt before mommy shovels them up! Mommy doesn't want them there, because then they will get in the garden, and then there will be toy trees everywhere!
I must call him that a lot, because he is adopting it as his identity. Awhile back he said to me, "Hey mom, you know why I make such messes everywhere I go?"
Here we go, I thought. Now I will know the Answer.
"Because I'm Borneo Boy!"
Of course. Why didn't I think of that?
Although he enjoys being Borneo Boy, Rooster did enjoy getting his hair cut a few weeks ago. I tried to be careful not to get hair everywhere, but the locks fell thick and fast. As yet another one rolled off his shoulders and into his lap, he exclaimed, "Hey! Little hay balls keep falling off of me!"
Then first thing next morning, he ran into the bathroom to check his reflection in the mirror. Then he ran out of the bathroom shouting, "Look at me! I'm still bald! Woo hoo!"
Last week Roo was reading a book in the car on our way somewhere. He kept giggling to himself, finally saying out loud, "Mom, this is the greatest story ever!"
The kid can't read. He was going solely on the pictures.
As is my custom, I pointed out items of interest along the way. Usually he loves to see what I'm talking about. On this day, I got some unusual responses:
Me: Hey, J- There's a train!
Rooster: "Hm, yeah... that's not as messed up as the train in this story!"
Me: Huh? Look, J- Cows!
Rooster: "Oh, mom, you should see what happens to the cows in my story!"
Me: J- What's your story about?
The best part was that when I finally sat down and read the book to him, there were indeed a messed up train and a bunch of cows that had a strange adventure. I had to agree with him on all counts. It was indeed the greatest dinostory ever.
The other day we grilled hot dogs for dinner. Rooster suddenly felt the need to proclaim his undying affection for the all-American link.
Hey, guys, I love hot dogs! I love them so much, we should call them "I Love You Dogs". No, wait, we should call them "Hot I Love You's". No, I know I know! Let's call them "Hot Love!"
Awesome. We have now grilled Hot Love about 4 times in the past 10 days. Nobody seems sick of it yet, but I'm abstaining from Hot Love until this weekend, so I can be prepared to indulge at the Memorial Day picnic on Monday.