Today was a most special delivery as Tyler and I received the last item on his birthday checklist.
As he ripped open his “Cat in the Hat” DVD in a frenzy, I cried, “Do you like it? I got it just for you!”
His response: “No, you didn’t. The man in the brown truck did.”
Why doesn’t the UPS guy just go ahead and tell him he gave birth to him? He gets credit for everything else around here.
Along with Tyler’s fourth birthday came a grinding halt to toddlerhood and a crashing entrance into boyhood; and for me, the frightening realization that from this point forward, whenever I screw up royally, he could potentially remember everything. May the boy’s blank slate begin to fill with memories of play dates, smiles, a birthday cake with a Renuzit candle, and inflatable Jump-o-lenes.
Last night Tyler refused to play Memory (aka, “matching cards”) with me for fear they would start on fire. Seems it’s fire safety week, and his teacher warned him not to play with matches. I was going to explain the difference, but it’s kind of nice having someone around here who’s more confused than I am.
In other news, I won’t be getting my ass whooped in Memory by a 3-year-old any time soon.
