I hate to call him a menace. He's not, but he sure is a mess. Have you ever noticed how things that are permissible, even cute, on a two-year-old, just don't seem to fly on a three-year-old? We had dinner guests tonight. A couple from our church who's raising support to be missionaries to the Czech Republic. They're normal people, of course, and, THANK GOD, have three grown sons of their own, but as I watched Robert pinch Mr. J., bop Mrs. J. over the head with his USA place mat, and tell Mr. J. something along the lines of, "I put a stinky on you", I found myself wanting to lay my head on my plate and close my eyes until dinner was over. These are only the highlights of bad behavior for the evening. Our guests stayed later than regulation bedtime, and by the time I rocked my little men-ess, he was so tired, so incredibly sweaty*, whole body, whole head, and so sweet. I hope others can see his sweetness through his mischievousness, but even if they can't, I'm glad I can.
*Our piece-of-crap air conditioner, coupled with our gas oven, tripled with my kids' habit of leaving the door open every time they walk out (as all kids do), had warmed our house to a comfy 80 degrees in time for company.
I took these pictures at the beach a few weeks ago. Pic 2 is a typical response from Robert when I ask him to smile for the camera, not quite as popular as his silly face (Pic 1), but close.
Miller's behavior tonight was much more socially acceptable, meaning she didn't try to scissor-kick anyone and tell them she was going to cut them. She did go on and on about her corn on the cob:
"I'm eating all this corn."
"I'm almost through with my corn."
"Look, Daddy, I'm almost through with all my corn."
"Look, mom."
"Somebody, look, I ate all this corn."
"I'm so glad I ate all this corn, b/c I wanted to eat all this corn."
This is truly only about 25% of what she said about the corn, and it only mattered b/c it was continually interrupting Mr. J.'s recounting of the path to one of the most significant decisions of his life.
It just occurred to me that I'm glad my mom didn't have a blog 30 years ago with which to record my performance at all social gatherings. =) I'm sure I was perfect.
