He’s Still Our Favorite Four Year Old

If you ever catch wind that I’ve been put into an institution, please know that it’ll be because of the preschool pick-up time.

More specifically, me being in a bathrobe and slippers in a private place smack in the  middle of the mountains with the wind whispering through the trees will be directly related to that small space of time when I walk into Thing 2’s classroom to fetch him after a solid morning of ABCs, and see his teacher smile and make a beeline straight for me.

Bless her.

Today, Miss K told us that, overall, Thing 2 had a JUST FINE day, but yes, there was a little issue involving someone who didn’t want to sit still for carpet time.  The honest truth is, Thing 2 has already nailed beginning letter sounds.  I kid you not, folks; our four-year-old can tell you what letter nearly every word in the English language starts with, so perhaps he’s bored and ready for the third grade already.  THAT may be the reason that sitting still at carpet time was difficult today.

No matter.

We still love him, even if he does prefer to encourage his classmates to participate in gymnastics — LET’S DO SOMERSAULTS!  AND BACK FLIPS!  AND WHO’S UP FOR SCALING THE BOOKCASE AND LEAPING FROM IT TO THE BEANBAG, AS WE PRETEND THE RUG BETWEEN THOSE TWO THINGS IS FILLED WITH HOT LAVA?! — and we’ll still keep him.

This afternoon, when Hubs asked him how preschool had gone today, Thing 2 just shook his head and said, rather seriously, “Well, Dad.  It’s not going to be a story of good news for you.”

Then…

… if you know Thing 2 at all, you know how much he enjoys toy segregation.  He has several close little friends who are girls, and he loves them dearly, but our son is of the opinion that girls should play with dolls and fairies and pink purses, while he should play with John Deere tractors and swords.  He hates the color pink so badly, he won’t even eat the pink M&Ms that were out for Easter.

You think I’m joking.

Rest assured… I.  Am.  Not.  If you hand that kid of ours a pastel pink M&M, he will refuse to take it, and he’ll let you know that PINK IS FOR GIRLS.

We’ve been working on this at home, trying desperately to convince him that PINK IS  OKAY FOR BOYS!  Yes, it is!

So imagine my joy when Thing 2 woke me up out of a dead sleep one morning this week — at 2:36 AM!! — hollering out, “Mommy!  Mommy!  MOMMMMYYYYY!!!” from his bedroom.  Every mother will run for her child when she hears this at 2:36 in the morning, and we’re usually preparing ourselves mentally, between our bed and the kid’s bedroom door, to clean up puke.

When I threw open Thing 2’s door at 2:36 in the morning, he was sprawled on his bed.  I asked, “What is it?”

He replied, “Pink is okay for boys, right?  Right, Mom?  I can eat pink M&Ms, and it’s okay, right?  Pink M&Ms are okay for boys to eat.  Isn’t that right, Mom?”

My biggest hope is that the mimosas at the institution are pink every weekend.  I feel like I’ve earned them.

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