On Monday, Finn and I braved Shoprite to gather some things before Snowmageddon hit, and two Latina ladies walked past chatting. Finn looked up at me and said, "Those two were talking crazy!" I replied, "No, honey. They were talking in Spanish."
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This is a picture of someone saying, "NO!"
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I tweeted this picture already, but I love that he sleeps with books
the way most kids sleep with stuffed animals.
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As you may or may not know, Finn has a very good friend named Charlotte. Char and Finn are great fun to watch interact. Don't be surprised when they get married to each other some day. Now, because Charlotte takes dance classes Friday mornings, Finn decided HE wants to take dance classes on Friday mornings. The first time we took him, he HATED it. When Christine (Charlotte's mom) asked Finn what he thought of dance class his response was literally a growl.
"Finn, what did you think of dance class?"
"GGrrrrrrrrr."
"GGrrrrrrrrr."
So, we dropped it until a few weeks later when he insisted on going again and he LOVES it now. All of this is to set up part of a conversation overheard on the way home from dance this past week.
Finn: That's hurting my brain!
Charlotte: That hurts MY feelings!
Oh yes, we can hear the wedding bells already.
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He has decided to be like me and wear a scarf on occasion.
Of course, his favorite is the frilly purple one.
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He has taken to calling me "My Darling" lately. He also says "You're welcome" when he should be saying "Thank you." So, if you compliment him like, "Hey Finn, great job building that block tower!" He will respond, "You're welcome." My favorite example of both things happened the other day (week?). He had finished pooping and needed help wiping. As I was wiping his butt I said, "Wow Finn, that's a big poop!" To which he replied, "You're welcome, My Darling!"
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He's still trying to master putting on his own coat.
This happens more times than he'd probably like me to say.
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This is a picture of Finn riding on his own motorcycle.
The black splotch is his helmet. Safety first!
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Yesterday, as we were cleaning up after Bible study, I looked up and Finn was standing in the middle of the chapel, by the pews, with his pants around his knees. When I asked him what he was doing he said, "My penis keeps falling out of my underwear pants." Oh, how my friends who were still there giggled. But I fixed him up, pulled up his pants and moved on with what I was doing.
Later that evening, Finn went upstairs to get ready for bed, but then came down (to talk to Josh on the phone) with new underpants on, but he had them on backwards. I asked him if that's so his penis doesn't fall out anymore and he said yes. So then Deacon said, "But now your butt might fall out!" A look of horror flashed across Finn's face and his hand flew to his butt to check it out. He was relieved to find his button was, in fact, still fully covered.
And this is pretty much every day. I love this kid and I will be pretty sad when he goes to kindergarten next year. He really does keep things interesting and he truly makes me laugh.
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