Dino retires, Paul becomes Paula, and Batman Saves Gotham.
Ah, an exciting few days we’ve had—trade negotiations (Connor), sex reassignment procedures (Riley Katie’s doll), snow adventures, and of course, the thrills and agonies of victory and defeat on the new video game system.
Connor is making me crazy with what has become “the shirt issue.” Grandmom bought Connor a shirt over two years ago, which he loved. It’s a very nice shirt, but like any child’s shirt, it wasn’t made to be worn four days per week for two years. Unfortunately, the EXACT shirt is no longer made, so it was impossible to buy a duplicate when the original began to fade. However, Grandmom managed to find similar shirts from the same company and sent two for EACH of the boys. I mistakenly thought that the idea was, “Great, now we can retire the old one!” Connor’s feeling on the new shirts was, “Great, now I can ADD TO MY COLLECTION!” The original shirt was a snappy long sleeved black t-shirt with a glow-in-the-dark t-rex skeleton and the words “Dino-Pack” on the front. It is now a semi-gray, two-sizes-too-small t-shirt with elbow length sleeves and an appliqué that’s partially worn off. A few days ago when I told Connor to go get dressed “in something nice, because we’re going out,” he emerged wearing black, dressy corduroy pants and his original dino tee. I had finally had it. I said, “Hand over the shirt. We will frame it and hang it on your wall, but you may not wear it anymore.” He had a meltdown, of course, sobbing that this shirt was “the coolest”, and he had to wear it. I asked him what I could offer as a trade for retiring the shirt—a new fixer-guy shirt, perhaps? A Superman or Spidey shirt? Even another dino shirt? After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, we have come to the following agreement: Connor will retire the original dino shirt on the condition that he is free to wear the other two dino shirts a minimum of three days per week unless a dressy outing is scheduled, and I will make him a t-shirt with an iron-on picture of him WEARING the old t-shirt, which he can wear as a night shirt. I thought it was all finally resolved, but now I’m being harassed about what kind of frame/shadowbox we will buy for the retired and much beloved shirt and when we will buy it.
Meanwhile, Riley Katie is no longer the mother of Matilda and Paul, the bitty twins. She is the mother of Matilda and Paula. Gee, you try to raise them right, but you know, she was a very young mother—not quite two, as a matter of fact; so who wouldn’t expect one of her kids to go awry? Actually, Riley Katie just felt that she no longer wanted a boy baby, so we pulled Paul’s hair into a ponytail to match Matty’s and changed his name to Paula. He can’t speak, but he gave us all a look that clearly said, “I always knew I was different…. I’ve always felt like a stranger in my own body…. I used to secretly try on Matty’s tights at night in the toybox…Thank you, Dr. Colleen, you’re a miracle worker.” Anyway, here’s hoping we haven’t just taught Riley Kate that we can swap Ror for a girl one of these days when she gets sick of him.
Rory is completely addicted to v-smile, especially since he has a ---*gasp*--- Batman game. Not just any Batman game, but a Batman game in which the narrator talks in that deep, serious voice that Ror likes to use when he’s attempting to save the world. True, he has no idea how to solve any of the puzzles in the game, but the narrator takes him seriously, unlike Mommy. The narrator would never call him “the cutest little Batman ever.” No, the narrator (or, as Ror calls him, “the guy”) encourages him with a deep, manly, “you’ll do it! Keep trying!” and apparently understands that the fate of Gotham lies in the hands of Ror, and that it is a serious matter indeed.
Be sure to check out our Snow Day and Valentine’s Day pictures on the photo album site. You can see Chris decked out in a pastel pink coat, borrowed from Katie because he didn’t want to get his leather jacket wet. Nothing says comedy like seeing Chris Elio in a too-tight, puffy, pink parka.
|
