“I a Big Boy!”
TheMonk has a burning desire to be a “big boy.” It was probably the single most effective method in getting him potty trained. All we had to do is remind him that “big boys go pee pee in the potty.” Really? Done.
But now this “Big Boy” stuff is starting to get a little old. The main problem is that while, yes, he has made great strides in becoming a “Big Boy,” he’s still more “Little Boy” than “Big Boy.” But that doesn’t stop him from wanting to do everything all by himself. He wants to climb into his car seat, put on his shoes, run the water in the bath, open his own beer bottle… You get the idea. While he may be on the verge of doing many of these things, it takes him a LOT longer than it would take me. I mean, geez, do you have any idea how long it takes a 3-year-old to open a bottle of beer?
But all of that is minor compared to what transpired today.
As TheMonk and I cuddled on the couch this morning watching Curious George, I reached over and tried to kiss his chubby little cheek. He turned away from me and said, “No Daddy! No kissing me! I a big boy. Kiss me like this [he kissed the palm of his hand and blew me a kiss].” Thinking he had made his point, he went back to watching Curious George.
I stared at him, contemplating how to respond to this directive that we would only blow kisses to each other from now on. I could only think of one way to respond…
I grabbed him, wrapped my arms around him and smothered him with tons of kisses while he squirmed and squealed in my arms.
“You may be a Big Boy, Monk.” I said, “But you aren’t too big for kisses from Daddy.”
As I finally let him go, he sat on the couch, breathing heavily from the squealing and glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. His smile told me that perhaps he really didn’t want to be that big of a boy just yet either.
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