Yes, well, this isn't exactly the most photogenic the boy has ever been, but this is a telling picture of life with Collin these days. He is often a dinosaur (he came out of his bedroom a few nights ago LONG after bed-time with the rather flimsy excuse of having not been able to fasten his triceratops hat under his chin), which entails much VERY LOUD roaring and the making of claws. An amused mother at our swimming lessons heard him, flinched (he is really very, very loud), and said, "My, he's excited!"
No, really. He's like this all the time.
When he is not a dinosaur, he is a fireman, a football player, a baseball player, and a knight.
In the previous entry, I promised more on the endless questions that are part of creative play and/or storytelling these days. Most of these are from Collin, who is physically incapable of not vocalizing for more than 2 minutes at time while he is awake. A sampling, taken from perhaps the first two minutes of a story:
What Sir Ancelot [sic] doing?
Why he doing that?
What a lance?
Swords are sharp, you can't use that, only on bad things.
Is that monster mean?
Why he a knight?
Why he have that helmet?
What jousting mean?
But that bad, that dangerous, you might hurt someone.
I could be a knight----ROARRRRRRR!!
Why he have that feather on his hat?
Why he look mad?
Are those other knights mean?
Fighting is bad, you shouldn't fight. That's hitting.
I like Sir Ancelot.
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