Scout is awesome. He is a nice big brother, and is a really good son. I’ll admit that every now and again, we run into some snags, but the vast majority of the time, he is my little dreamboat. It seems like I always put a bazillion Icka stories up, but Scout isn’t shy of stories himself, so I thought I would write a few down.
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Scout has an amazing bladder. He can go all day without using the facilities, and has no problem throughout the night. He also has a huge habit of waking up in the night and guzzling water. So when he woke up the other morning, he was dancing around like he was trying out for RiverDance. We urged him along to the bathroom before he ate his cereal, and after about 10 seconds we heard…”Aaaaahhhhhh, finally.” My mom and I were rolling.
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Yesterday was “clean up” day. Scout was assigned to help me with the toy room, where I was not only cleaning up, but I was going through everything, throwing out faulty toys and giving away ones we never use. When he heard the “give away” concept, he immediately went over to the bag. Inside he found a stuffed bear on a keychain and another stuffed bear that was a little bigger — about four inches. When he grabbed them, he gasped and said, “MOM…you can’t give these away. What if we want to play ‘bear family’?” I knew it was going to be a long day after that comment. So I told him that some kids don’t have any toys, and they have to find sticks to play with as guns. I went on a little bit about how lucky he and Icka were, and it would be so nice to be able to make other kids happy. So all of a sudden, Mother Theresa entered his body. My boy was giving away the farm. No matter what, he said, “But mom, another kid would be so happy to get something as special as this.” At one point, he grabbed a flower headband that was in the dress-ups. I told him to put it back in the dress-ups. But he replied, “But mom…..don’t you think a little baby would look at this and think she was so pretty. It would make her SO happy if we could just give it to her.” I agreed, and then snuck it out when he wasn’t looking. Thanks to him, we have an entire black garbage bag filled with stuff to give away!
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Scout is a fruit fanatic. We all know he is a self-appointed vegetarian (minus bacon), so he fills his stomach with raw veggies, and mostly fruit. When my mom took him to the store last week, he finagled her into buying him cantaloupe, kiwi, pears, grapes, clementines, mangoes and nectarines. I asked my mom if she was crazy to get so much fruit, but she said she would get him anything he wanted, and then told me, “those are the things he wanted.” I guess it could be worse. So I guess, the fact that my three year old is choosing mass amounts of fruit is good. However, there is one side effect that isn’t favorable. My boy might be the gassiest boy I have ever met. (Apparently there is a LOT of fiber in fruit.) Well, I was next to him a few days back, and he did a “gas ball” (he is responsible for the name). I immediately asked him what he says after such a mishap. He just gave me a hot-shot look and started to walk away. I got him and within seconds put him in time out. I wanted to make sure he knew there isn’t leniency on being rude. So he got a little lecture on why saying “excuse me” is important and necessary. After time out, he was in my same room, and all of a sudden I hear, “Excuse me”…three second later…”excuse me”…five seconds later…”excuse me”…another ten seconds…”excuse me”. I just looked at him and laughed. Then he said to me, “Mom, I’ve got a LOT of gas balls.”
Maybe I should retract.
Because ignorance is bliss.
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