Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Baseball bat? Sword? Giant stick? Who cares!
We are working on several things with Collin this summer. One is his inability to use anything approaching an “indoor voice.” My theory is that he is so used to shouting at big boys on the playground until they listen to him (“HEY ROSS! HEY! ROSS! LOOK AT ME!! I’M OPTIMUS PRIME! KARATE KICK!! ROSS! LUCAS!! WATCH ME!) that he thinks that’s how he needs to talk all the time. Even when he whispers it’s a ridiculously loud stage whisper.
He did, however, make me day a few weeks ago when he said the following to his beloved babysitter: My mom is 26—no, I think maybe, I think 36. But don’t worry, Carrie. She doesn’t have any wrinkles and I don’t think she’s even a little bit close to dying yet.
What a relief!
The other ordeal Collin faces soon is the mailing off of all his “passas” (pacifiers) to Lolita, the Pacifier Fairy (kindly voiced by Auntie Nette). When he does this he will get an amazing prize in return, but he’s not sure anything could be worth it. So wish us—and him—luck.