I walked into a very dramatic scene yesterday involving lots of cars and trucks, crashing sounds (Boom, Bash, BAM), yelling and then the ultimate slam when the transformer swept in and told the weakly digger to “Move over you big boo boo”!!!!
I had to walk away so as not to keel over laughing then and there. I really should be thankful, we can be sorta potty mouths over here, but if that’s the best he’s got at 3 1/2 I’m thankful for that, once preschool starts I feel like his vocabulary will grow extensively and not in all the ways we want.
So in the meantime, “You big Boo Boo” whatever that is, works for me.
I may have to try it myself some time!
Brecken to me: “Mama I’m freaking out” (please note he’s 3)
Me to Brecken: “Why are you freaking out?” (First time I’ve heard this phrase from him before)
Brecken to me: “I’m just freaking out”
Me to Brecken: “Oh, well you don’t have anything to freak out about, now let’s go inside the Y”
What the bloody H does a 3-year-old have to freak out about? I mean other than that he’s lost Percy again for the umpteenth time or the injustice of his bedtime or that we still make him take naps. Perhaps it’s the therapy he’s going to face later in life for having such an non-empathetic mother who ignored his tiny pleas that he was freaking out. Screw the college fund, I better start putting money in the therapy fund. Perhaps he heard it from one of us, not that we’ve been literally freaking out, but we’ve had a lot on our plate between two kids with colds and ear infections, making sure tubes were still in one child’s ears and getting ready for tubes in the other ones ears. There may have been some internal freaking out when they tested Pippa for strange and rare diseases as a result of her refusal to grow, but all came back normal and she’s apparently just stubborn or perhaps she’s freaking out she’ll be a giant someday and trying to stunt her growth by hiding in the microwave, who knows. On the other hand maybe we do freak out, sometimes.
“Sloooooow down, you have to stop” I gaze ahead at the perfect row of green lights, one right after the other. I glance back, “Why do I need to stop?” The response was a quick “There’s a stop sign” as he points to the green light we’re currently cruising through, followed by a “You HAVE to stop ,there’s traffic” as he points to the traffic on the other side of the divided highway. I try to explain they’re on the other side and not really affected by our starting or stopping, when it doesn’t seem to be making any sense I ignore his comments and keep going. Shortly thereafter, I enter the turn lane and slow down so that we can stop for the red light and then turn, “Go faster” he yells, “You have to go faster”.
This is what happens when your, only been 3 for like a minute year old, decides to become the tiniest backseat driver, with only a basic understanding of driving, namely we go slow or fast and sometimes these things called signs and lights tell us to stop. Nearly every outing results in this fabulous commentary now, at some point in the last few weeks he has become an expert on driving and little will deter him from sharing his opinions. If only he were still like his sister who still falls asleep in the car the majority of the time. And to think I used to like driving in the car and taking them places.