Danger! Danger!

Nana Louie & Grandpa Gary are on their way here, and we’re all very excited about that. We’ll need the extra hands around here, because Mr. Grayson McSmartypants can now open all of our child-safety locks on all our house doors, including the ones that go outside. He can also get into the garage and open the garage door. I’m not sure what to do about that, since we have already installed those childproof things on all the doorknobs. Chains? Shackles? Last night he got out while I was going to the bathroom, and when I found him he was at our neighbor’s door. Yikes!

In other news, here are some of the things I’ve heard or overheard in the last couple of weeks that made me giggle:

Yesterday, at the park and playing with a BIG boy who was 5 years old.
Grayson, pointing up to the roof above the picnic table: “Look! A Roos!”
Other Boy: No, it’s a ROOF.
Grayson, getting all fired up: No, it’s a ROOS!
(Mom & Dad, does this remind you of anything like “scarfberries & boyboys”?)

The other night as we were driving home, just out of the blue, he said, “Good news… bad news.”

We saw a tractor in the road. Grayson shouted, “TRACTOR!!” For the longest time, “tractor” is our catchall word for everything that resembles any sort of tractor. Push lawn mowers, all the way on up to bulldozers and excavators. But we’ve been reading all about the different types of tractors, so I said, “That’s right. It’s a tractor. What kind of tractor is that? Is it a…. loader? or maybe a scooper?” Long silence, then I SWEAR he almost rolled his eyes at me as he said, very slowly, “TRACTOR, Mama.” (Like, dang she’s slow!)

He’s great on verb tenses; a few weeks ago I asked him, “Did A.J. drink that?” and he replied, “No, Grayson drank it!” so that impressed me, but now we’re getting all confused on pronouns again and he’ll ask, “Where’s him going?” Still, he seems very verbal at least in his “comfort zone”.

Not sure if I’ve ever mentioned here that he has a “comfort object” like most kids have blankies, a teddy bear, etc. Whenever he is tired, uncomfortable, or just feeling a little shy, he twiddles his belly button. It’s been going on a very long time, but it started out just whenever we’d read bedtime stories. He really pulls it out pretty hard, and twists it around, and sometimes I can’t even look! Now we have a pretty good barometer for his comfort level — if we see that t-shirt lift up a little, and his hand resting on his belly, we know he’s tired or something. Pretty weird, but at least we don’t have to worry about it getting lost or dirty!