A Few of My Favorite Things

Afternoon coffee. Knitting. Keeping company with a four-year-old in a cape, who is humming quietly as he sews buttons onto a piece of felt.

Innocent

Luke has a friend spending the night over and in preparation, I told him that he should not talk about anything scary while his friend was over. Of course, this is how my child translated that request...

Other Boy at bedtime: What's that sound?
Me: Just a car passing outside.
Other Boy, 10 seconds later: What's that sound?
Me: The sound of Luke's moving picture. Doesn't it sound like a waterfall?
Other Boy: Yes. But what's that quacking?
Me, quite unable to hear any quacking: Hmm...maybe it's a duck that's swimming in the lake by the waterfall.
*A low growl comes from the top bunk*
Other Boy: WHAT'S THAT SOUND?!?!
Me: That's just Luke being silly. Luke. Stop. Growling.
Luke: *Growl* That's not me growling. *Growl* That's the tiger near the waterfall. *Growl* You know, he comes out of the picture sometimes at night.
Other Boy: I AM NOT SLEEPING IN HERE!!!!

Chit-Chattin'

Luke has been all about root words lately and is constantly asking about what different word components mean. Most of the time, my answer is something like, "Um...I'm pretty sure 'train' just means train," but every once in a while, we get to have a conversation like this:

Luke: What's another word that means "four?"
Me: Quad.
Luke: Oh! Like quadriped?
Me: Yes...like quadriped. And "ped" means foot, so what do think a quadriped is?
Luke: An animal with four feet. Like a cheetah! Or a jaguar! Or really any big cat. What's an animal with three feet called?
Me: Do you have any guesses?
Luke: Um...triped! Hahaha, that's a funny one!
Me: It does sound funny! What about a biped--do you know what that is?
Luke: A two-footed animal! And...a one-footed animal is...hm...what's another word for one? Uni? Uniped!


I was sitting with Weston for a couple of minutes before he went to bed and noticed that he had a pair of his pajama pants tucked in with his menagerie of stuffed animals in the bed.

Me: Oh, there are pajama pants in here.
Weston: There's a shirt that goes with those pajamas.
Me: A pajama shirt? Yeah...it's probably dirty.
Weston: Maybe those people taked it.
Me: What people?
Weston: The neighbors.
Me: ...You think the neighbors took your pajama shirt?
Weston: Yes.
Me: Hm...I think maybe it's just in the drawer.
Weston, after thinking about it for a minute: I think my elephant baby [ie, stuffed elephant] took it.
Me: Oh. And where do you think the elephant baby put it?
Weston: In the drawer.


Lately, both boys have been asking what their food looks like. They're always looking for answers like "tiger," "shark," and "light saber."

Weston: What does this popcorn look like?
Me, distracted by a conversation with someone else: Um, it looks like a piece of popcorn.
Weston: To me, it looks like an octopus. See? It goes, "Oct, oct, oct," and swims into my mouth.

Just Say No

A man rang the doorbell during lunch. I'm a sucker for door-to-door salespeople--I don't ever buy anything from them, but I always let them do their little spiel and ask for a card or brochure (which they never, ever have) because I always think that maybe someday, I might want whatever crazy thing they're selling. So I go to the door...

Man 1: Hi! Two things. First of all, is that truck for sale?
Me: Uhhh...no.
Man 1: Aww, man. Ok. Second thing, can I do a presentation for you?
Me: About what?
Man 1: Meat! *As he says this, a van emblazoned with pictures of steaks pulls out from behind a tree and up to the front of our house, hollywood-style.*
Me: Um. How long will this take?
Man 1: I can't give an exact number, you understand, because it's interactive and I want you to understand exactly what's happening. But if I were pressed to give a ballpark figure, I'd say about...seven minutes.
Me: Ok, then. Sure.
Man 1: Are you from New Delhi?
Me: ...No...
Man 1: Bombay?
Me: ...No...
Man 1: So then, you eat meat?
Me: Yes...
Man 1: Ok, great! I'll be right back.
*He runs to the truck and he and another man come back, each carrying a box.*
Man 1: Can I come into your house?
Me: Um...
Man 1: I just don't want your neighbors to be wondering about what we're doing.
Me, worried that "meat" was a code word for some crazy new drug: Um...I...This...is more involved than what I had in mind.
Man 2: That's ok, that's ok, we can do this right here on the porch.
Me: Great. Let's do that.
Man 2: Ok, first of all, I want to ask you: who guarantees the meat in your fridge for a full year?
Me: Hm...I'm guessing you do?
Man 2: Yes! *Hands me a list of prices* I want you to disregard everything you read on there. This box of meat is $400. If you buy the beef box, I'll give you the chicken box for free. *Goes on to describe every piece of meat in the beef and chicken boxes*
Me: Uh-huh.
Man 2: But you have to do it right now. This meat is a limited time offer. If you don't buy it, I can guarantee that we'll sell it to someone in the neighborhood. I have to move this meat, you understand?
Me: O...kay...
Man 2: Ok, tell you what, why don't you pick your two favorite cuts of steak? I'll cut you a deal, a special deal. You can't tell any of the neighbors, ok? I don't want them all to expect the same deal, but you pick your two favorite cuts, and I'll give you a deal on them.
Me: I'm not prepared to buy anything today. I really just wanted some information. Do you have a brochure or something?
Man 2: No, we don't keep brochures. Let me ask you, I have traveled all over the world, and I'm really good at guessing people's background--can I guess yours?
Me: Um. I guess?
Man 2: Awesome, awesome. You're mixed, right?
Me: ...No.
Man 2: Really? I'm usually really good at spotting that.
Me: Hm.
Man 2: So then, are you from India or something?
Me: Yes.
Man 2: Oh, see? I'm great at guessing backgrounds!
Me: Hm.
Man 2: So you're the one who cooks, right?
Me: Not usually.
Man 2: Oh, really? So then, your husband cooks? Or your partner?
Me: Yes.
Man 2: Which one? Your husband or your partner?
Me: My. Husband.
Man 2: Wow, see, those are the guys to look for! The ones who can cook! You did good, girl!
Me: *Staring in complete amazement because WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!*
Man 2:Yeah, so don't you want to surprise him with some steak tonight?
Me: ...Really not.
Man 2: Ok, ok, fair enough. But can I ask you why? Is there a specific reason? 'Cuz I really have to move this meat and I can negotiate on price.
Me: It's not the price--
Man 2: What is it, then?
Me: I just, I'm just--I'm not prepared to commit to meat today. Thanks, bye.

After I went back in the house and locked BOTH locks on the door, I realized that last sentence? Really not something I ever expected to hear myself say.

10 Things That Have Caused Weston to Scream Today

1. He asked for an orange spoon, so I gave him an orange spoon. He thinks orange means blue (or green or red or yellow or really anything other than orange,) so he accused me of giving him the wrong color.

2. He wanted the spoon that Luke was using. The problem was that Luke was using it at the moment. When Luke finished using it, we offered it to him. Proceed to item 3.

3. He wanted there to be no places where the inner surface of the bowl showed through. But he had already taken a couple of bites of oatmeal, so in those places, the bowl showed through. He was so mad, he told Luke to take the spoon back because he didn't want it as he wasn't going to eat when the bowl was showing through.

4. Luke took the spoon back.

5. He wanted me to pick him up. I was in the shower.

6. He wanted a Lara bar. We were out of Lara bars.

7. He wanted a "strawberry." All we had were raspberries and blueberries. He screamed that he had just seen the strawberries in the fridge. He took me over and pointed to the raspberries. "Oh, these strawberries," I said, not wanting to get involved in a discussion about their true name, "Sure, you can have some of these." He took one bite, and then said he didn't want strawberries--he wanted raspberries.

8. He broke some of Luke's Lego creations and Luke told him to stop.

9. I insisted that if he wanted something for his chapped lips, he could use chap-stick, but not deodorant.

10. I called him, "Weston" and he wanted to be called "Baby-tiger-daniel-baby-tiger-neighbor-meow-meow-turtle-mouse-soup."

I suppose this post could also have been called "10 Reasons Naptime Began Early Today."

Conversations with Weston

McMoose: Let's not slide the couch apart. It's not safe. You might fall...
Weston: I might fall and ping over.
Mc: I don't want you to ping over. Let's be safe...
Weston: I ping over!
Mc: No pinging over. Sit on the couch...
W: Ping over!

Me, in a calm tone: West, I don't want you walking around the house with your shoes on. Sit here and take off your shoes before you walk around.
Weston: Ohhhhhh, I saaaaaadddd! I sad because you yelled at me and said, 'No, no, no!"
Me, still in a calm tone: I'm not yelling at you--
W: Ohhhhh, I so saaaaaaddd!!! Mama is yelling at Baby Weston! Ohhhhhh!

Me: Weston, do not swing that cord around like that. It has a hard part at the end and it'll hurt Luke if you hit him with it.
Weston, lying his entire body on the ground: I AM DYYYYYYYIIIIIINNNNNGGGG!!!!

Square Peg, Round Hole

I got to attend my first parent-teacher conference today. It was fun. They informed me that Luke could to all the things on their evaluation and was doing very well. On the walk back to the car, I took a quick glance at the evaluation and it made me smile. There were some sections about social and group behaviour (which I did find interesting because I don't generally get to see that side of him) and some things about cognitive and verbal abilities (which are the ones that made me smile.) Here are some of the things in those sections that I found particularly amusing--my thoughts are in parenthesis:

-May name 18-20 uppercase letters. (Yes, he can. And lowercase. And cursive. And probably calligraphy, though I haven't tried that yet.)
-Recognizes some printed words. (Such as Australopithecus.)
-Able to count to 30. (Also informed me yesterday that 1000x1000=1000000.)
-Can state first and last name. (When I ask him to do this, it leads to him stating the first and last names of everyone else in our family, as well as everyone in his best friend's family. And then, he tells me everyone's birthday, as well as our address, which he recites as "house number, street name, city, state, country, continent, planet." Inevitably, this leads to a recitation of the other continents and planets. I try not to ask the question unless we have 20 minutes to spare.)
-Prints own name. (Last weekend, he wrote, "I put down my cat and I picked up my other cat. I went out the door. I said Boo! I saw a ssssnake. It hissed at me. I marched." A few months ago, he started writing his name in cursive, but when preschool started back up, he stopped doing that, presumably because they're focusing on printing.)

After the conference, I asked him how he was enjoying school. He said he loves it. Then, I asked him what he learned there. His reply: "I don't learn things at school. My teacher can never trick me. I already know all the school things. I can only learn things at home and from my books." Oh, dear. This is going to be a crazy ride.