One of the supreme joys in my life is "snuggling" in bed with all of my kids first thing in the morning. Tess usually wakes us all up, and then everyone piles in while Tess works on the first bottle of the day.
Several days ago, I said something about how amazed I am at the softness of Tess' skin. She's about 11 mos. old now, but she still has the softest baby skin I've ever seen. Pete is never one to miss an opportunity for commentary, so he remarked that girls all have soft skin.
But not boys. Boys are bumpy.
If you caught Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, then you probably still have the A Man's Gotta Do song stuck in your head (if not, you can buy it from iTunes or hear the song on youtube).
You can nominate me for Father of the Year if you want, but we watched all three acts of Dr. Horrible with Pete over the weekend. He thought it was pretty entertaining, and stayed engaged through all 45~ minutes. Then, yesterday I caught him singing "A maaaaaaaaaan's gotta do what a maaaaan's gotta do" under his breath. As if that weren't funny enough, last night while he was taking a bath he turned to me and said, "I've gotta do what I've gotta do. 'Cuz I'm a man, right Dad?" As I tried to keep myself from bursting out with laughter, I asked him what he thought he had to do. "You know," he said, "Man stuff."
I'm hoping that doesn't involve peeing in the back yard, but I wouldn't count on it.
Context: In the bathroom after viewing Prince Caspian last week…
Rachel (Amanda's 9 yr. old sister): So, was the White Witch really going to help them?
Peter (my 4 1/2 yr. old son): Aunt Rachel… did you even see the first movie? The White Witch put Edmond in a cage, AND she killed Aslan, but he got alive again. No, she wasn't really going to help them.
During Pete's "routine checkup"
Dr. Webb: Can Peter count to four?
Amanda: Um, yes.
Dr. Webb: Peter, how high can you count?
Pete: I dunno. Twenty seven? Twenty nine? I'm workin' on my thirties.
Daddy: Peter, do you know what today is?
Pete: Is it Sunday?
D: Did we go to church this morning?
P: Nope.
D: Then I guess it isn't Sunday.
P: Well, I have Cubbies tonight. Does that help you?
The Setting: During Day 1 of Amanda's trip to St. Louis:
Me: Uh, Pete. Why don't you have any pants on?
Peter: Because I'm taking my second pair of underwear off.
Me: OK. Why did you have two pairs of underwear on?
Peter: I thought it would be cool, but… it wasn't.
Me: Fair enough.
Don't worry. She'll be back Sunday night.
Pete and I have this game we play where we take turns coming up with hypothetical confrontations between various animals, super heroes, and historical figures. It usually goes something like this…
Pete: Who would win in a fight between a snake and a, um, a SHARK?
Me: Man, that's a tough one but I think the shark would win because of its huge mouth with all of those big, huge teeth.
Pete: Yeah, you're probably right, but snakes are pretty tough, too.
Since it's been so bloomin' hot lately, we've all been sleeping together in the guest room in the basement. Aside from the blessedly cool temperature, another added benefit has been getting to talk to Pete while we all fall asleep.
Last night, after about 45 consecutive seconds of silence (that in itself is noteworthy), I heard Pete's little voice from his bed on the other side of the room. "Who would win in a fight," he asked, "between Jesus and a whale?" I immediately answered that Jesus, the Son of God, would easily win in a fight with a whale because he's JESUS! Pete agreed, adding that "Jesus could *punch* the whale right in the face and it would probably go away."
Can't argue with that logic.
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