Swimming Glasses and Other Fine Things

Today the delivery man got another surprise when George, naked from the waist down, answered the door instead of me. I was putting Franklin down for a nap, and George was on the potty when the truck arrived. So, of course he answered the door. Another story for the man to add to his list of Strange Encounters of the Pickering Kind.

In the package were what George calls SWIMMING GLASSES!!!

He was simply delighted, and had lots of fun with them at the pool tonight.

"I da mailman, and dis my truck. I have package in back and I drivin' FAST!"

Can you say 'jail break'?

Last weekend we enjoyed a lovely day at the Peaks of Otter with some friends from church.

George and Kiran trudged bravely along for a whole mile!

On Monday I had a friend over for tea while the boys slept. I had a tea tray all laid out, and George was very sorry not to be able to join us. He dearly loves a good tea party. I think this stems from time spent with Aunt Marion and Oma.

So when he got up from his nap, I had a little tea party with him. He takes his tea parties very seriously. I let him pour out his own tea, and as he poured he was telling Franklin "See Ankie? God gived me strong muscles and maked me STRONG so I can pour dis out. Dis a very special tea pot Ankie. Don't breaked it! Be veeeery careful!"

The mechanics of a tea bag are fascinating to him.

I told him the Dormouse from Alice in Wonderland was inside the tea pot

Heeere mousie mousie...

"I lookin for dat Mouse Muh. He asleep in dere."

"Dere he is. He all sleepin'. Go sleep Mouse!"

Here is little one praying. He hears the word 'pray' and slaps his little mits together so fast! He's growing so fast. New words this week!

Tee! for tree, nana! for banana, ahs zat! for what's that. And always with an exclamation point. He's nothing if not enthusiastic.

I just love watching him eat.

Such an animated little character!

If any of you Gen-Xer's out there can remember the Sesame Street cattle dog skit- you know, where the dog is rounding up cows and this song is playing "I'm a dog, I'm a workin' dog, I'm a hard working dog..."... yeah. George loves that skit. Anyway, I made scones the other day and George was eating one. Later at dinner he randomly starts singing "I a scone, I workin' scone, HARD workin' SCONE."

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Every morning he has to clean up his room before going to the pool or out for the day. I wonder what Child Protective Services would think if they overheard his clean up song... "I a dog, I hard workin' dog. I workin' hard or Mummah dispin me. I workin dog I workin dog. I HARD WORKIN dog."

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While driving about the metropolis the other day, George again returned to the theme of a little sister. "I have a lil sister Muh." he said. "She live in da woods. In da foh-rest." I asked him what her name was. "What Danielle's sister name is?" he asked. Danielle is a friend of mine, whose sister Kathryn is becoming one of the only teenage girls that George really, truly likes. "Danielle's sister's name is Kathryn." I said. "Dat MY sister's name!" said the Brice. "My sister a little grail, and her name is Kaffrin."

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We brought the old Disney Robin Hood home from the library the other night. George has discovered the joy of archery, and is now turning everything into bows and arrows. He'll come running over with some random junk in his hands yelling "Look!!! I have a bowlin' arrow!"

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We were down at the pool early one morning and this older lady comes in and sits down to do some sun bathing. George just took a shine her for some reason. A flower had fallen into the pool, and my little gentleman swam over, grabbed it, and asked if he could "give lit to dat nice lady over dere?" I said yes. He clambered out of the pool, and sloshed over to the lady with his flower.

She was naturally tickled pink. He then gave her a lecture on proper swimming technique and offered to give her a demonstration. "See? I show you. You watch me now."

He hopped back in the pool and paddled back over to me. This concluded the interview.

"Bye bye. You have nice day!" said my wee man.

I think he reminded her of Aunt Marion. She's the only person who ever gets this kind of treatment.

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George spent some time over at a friend's house earlier this week. Just before we left I informed him that he was going to Mrs. Brokaw's house for a little while. "Mister Brokawn had a bike. But Jesus taked it away." he inexplicably announced. "Oh really?" I said. "Why did Jesus take his bike away?"

"He gived it to the anjohs because anjohs want to ride on it. Dey are speeders!"

Does heaven have traffic laws?

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