Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Casey's Antics

Some time last weekend, when I was off changing Marcie's super gross diaper and filling in these lovely specimen containers (pictured to the left), which came complete with tiny spoons attached to the tops, Casey called out to me from the family room. "Mommy! Mommy! Help! Help!" Elbow deep in poo, it just wasn't a good time for me to drop everything and go running. Instead, I yelled back, "Are you okay?"

Casey cried out, "Mommy! Help! It's Mickey!"

Mickey is not Mickey. Mickey is a small Minnie Mouse doll Casey's older sister (his birth sister) gave to him when he was first born. A tiny infant. That first week we were there, both his sister and his brother carefully selected small stuffed animals from their personal collections and gifted them to Casey. At the time I recognized it as thoughtful. Now that I have a four year old myself (Casey's brother was four when he was born), I recognize the enormity of the gift-- of giving away one of his own toys. Anyway, Casey loves this Minnie Mouse doll Haley gave him. He knows it's from her. Sometimes he insists he can't sleep without it.

So I finish changing Marcie, and we return to the family room. This is what I saw:

Need a closer look? Here's poor Minnie:

We turned on the ceiling fan, and down flew Minnie. Casey thought this was hilarious and insisted on trying to get Minnie stuck on the ceiling fan again, until I finally took her away for the rest of the day.

The next day, Casey surprised me by getting dressed all by himself. Take a gander:

Yeah. The pants are backwards (I think the shirt might be, too). And he's wearing two different colored socks (though each had a match, I think). And the outfit's not exactly matching. I was able to convince him to turn his pants around, but that's what he wore all day. I'm just hoping the people at the grocery store understood this was a four-year-old asserting his independence and not a lunatic mother who was color and pattern-blind in an extreme way.

He sure does make me laugh . . .

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