Yeah, I know, everyone’s kid’s say adorable little things. Mine just tend to do it with enough conviction to make people fall of the couch laughing. So when The Boy came out of his room without his shirt on today and said “It came of all by itself” I was not moved. Things in his life have, of late, been happening without any third part assistance from him. Like when the loaf of bread was discovered cowering in the linen closet. It had, apparently, rolled out of the refrigerator “all on its own”. Perhaps it was being bullied by the oatmeal or taunted by the eggs regarding its lack of breakfast prowess. As this has happened several more times, I’m seriously considering segregating the bread from the other breakfast foods as a precautionary measure. I would hate to wake up one morning and find it pummeled into one giant bread-ball because the rest of the refrigerator had gang banged to bread to teach it a lesson on acceptable carb content.
20-minutes later when the same boy came out sans pants and underwear, I calmly said, as most sighted people would, “where are your pants?”
“They fell off all by themselves.”
“Uh-hu. And my underpants had to stay with my pants because I didn’t want them to get cold.”
“Okay, and where are your clothes now?”
“I don’t know.”
This last answer was not altogether untrue, as the army of laundry has been recruiting lately. We may not see those clothes until they are released on furlough after their basic training. They may not return at all. The battle between the laundry and the dishes appears to be claiming casualties. The tally so far is 2 dishcloths and a pizza box, so it’s fairly even to this point, but the laundry fights dirty. Kind of a take no prisoners approach.
So like any good mother, I let him revel in his nakedness, even though his conversations with his happy little penis were a little disturbing. The kid is only 3, clothes are still kind of a novelty for him. At least, that’s what I’m going with.