The ego is strong with this one

Boy is all about Boy. What Boy wants. What Boy does not want. No one else really enters into it.

Want Boy to do something? You'd best devise an explanation for how it's really in his best interest.

Sometimes I manage that, but sometimes....

"Then I will just call my monkey crew. And they will throw bananas at anyone who tries to make me do what I don't want to do."

Oh. Imaginary monkeys throwing imaginary bananas. I'm scared.

"No. They're REAL! I call them up then they come through the phone."

Uh huh.

"They come through the phone with a ginormous box of bananas. And they throw them round all over the place."

Keep a lid on it

Boy: Have you heard about bottom lids?
Me: Errrr. No.
Boy: Well, unfortunately, you know some people have a chemical in their bottoms. And they need to filter it out.
Me: Right.
Boy: So they need a bottom lid on their bottom. To filter out the chemicals.
Me: Oh.
Boy: And they have to keep it on for TWO days. And they have to strap it on over their bottom cheeks.
Me: ......
Boy: Do you want to see a picture of someone with a bottom lid that I drew?

.... do you?

Sweet dreams are made of these...

As you may know, Boy has quite an imagination. He's had some very interesting dreams at times.

The ones that really stand out in my memory are the nightmares, though.

My inconsolable Boy yelling "I want my HEEEEAAAAARRRRRT!" "I want my HEEEEAAAAARRRRRT!" really upset me.

Then Daddy asked me what he wanted his hat for. What a relief! And that made much more sense (sort of).

"I don't like CORN RIIIIIIICE."

This was easier to interpret - too much risotto Mummy.

And, then, last night I heard my Boy sobbing in his sleep. Whatever was wrong this time?

"I overloaded my engines!"

Apparently he was dreaming about Thomas the Tank Engine.

Tricks of the trade #351

Justababy, who isn't really a baby anymore*, is at an age where her long-held determination has finally coalesced with a newfound ability to actually follow through. Among other things, this currently manifests itself as her insistence on doing everything that Boy does. Eating everything Boy does. Drinking everything  Boy does. And so on.

Boy decided she should now be called Wanty Cat**. Because she wants everything that he has.

This evening Boy was playing in his room. Justababy wanted to, too. Mummy (that's me) wanted Justababy to get in the bath (and get off to bed).

What to do?!

Well, I very cunningly convinced Boy to help me*** by pretending that he was going to have a bath.

It worked a charm - what a win:win(win) resolution!

I now owe my son... something.




*I'll just keep calling her that to avoid confusing my reader(s)
** I'm assuming it's a play on Copy Cat. He thought I was just silly when I asked why it wasn't Wanty Dog or Wanty Bird.
***With much teenagerly sighing! "Ooooohhh kaaaaay"