I've noticed that I blog in spurts. (Blog roll. Get it? hardy har har) I'll sit down and write 3 posts in a row, then not do any for two weeks. Inconsistently consistent? Or consistently inconsistent? However it lands, I'm sort of both. You're welcome for that stunning revelation. *big cheesy grin*
While I still haven't gotten a mini voice recorder, I did grab pen and paper this morning, as my son was also "on a roll." A typically loud, energetic, random roll of talking about weird things, singing made-up songs, and finding a million new and funny ways (because it's always funny - not) to say "butt." Because "butt" is the funniest word in the world to a three year old.
|I think this pic hints at his mischievious and enthusiastic nature. Don't you?|
Boots loves to greet the morning with, um, enthusiasm. We are often awakened by his boisterous shouts (other times it could be described as screaming) that "it's morning, not time to sleep anymore." Another trick he has is to turn on lights... while you're sleeping. And it's still dark. (flashback to high school. I hated mornings then.) He is not always greeted warmly, in return. As was the case this morning.
Boots will often continue his rant, sometime for a couple hours, with some pretty interesting, and random, conversation. Not that anyone is really responding. He also is known to do this in the car. Which, in confined quarters, is annoying, and yet funny.
I'll just give you a play by play of sorts of his Morning Chatter.
He sang songs to Huggy who was still in his crib, and protesting that fact. The tune: "don't cry, Nookus."
While I made breakfast, he played with his Alvin (chipmunk) Happy Meal toy and sang the ever popular "Poop, poop, poop in yer pants, poop, poop, poop in yer pants, poop, poop, poop in yer pants, poop, poop on yer tail." HA HA HA. POOP ON YOUR TAIL, Mommy.
Yeah, that's funny. *shakes head*
Playing with big brother's toy, the Zyclone Zing Ring Turbo Blaster (in action here):
Is this a wheel bullet? It looks like a halo. (puts it on his head) It looks like money. (Spins it on floor.) It's a wheel. (Rolls it) Then sings, "It's a tire, it's a tire."
That ended the singing and he moved on to flicking pony beads across the kitchen floor, with great excitement when one would go under the refrigerator. Ought to be a good surprise next time I clean under there. Ahem.
Now, he's moved on to playing his toy guitar while wearing his Incredibles underwear backwards. They're sort of cheeky that way. (If he wasn't in his underwear, and not wanting to put that out for the world of pervs to see, I'd video it.) He holds his (imaginary) pick, strums as one should, jams and has a rather good guitar player stance. Just like his daddy.
Never a dull moment. Never a dull moment.