Thursday, October 13, 2011


"I'm a big boy; I went to Big Boy School!"  He says this, laughing, while standing naked in the tub, refusing to get out until "the tornado" is finished.  (His cast is still on, therefore he's limited to the tub, not shower.) I've bought him his own facial soap and a deodorant stick of his own.  He cannot wait to use them.  I was waiting until their bathroom was finished before I gave him more things which would fill it.  He thinks post-bath is a.good time.

The fifth grade went on a field trip titled "Growing Up, Boy"-- or rather, some of them went to it and some went to "Growing Up, Girl."  We had to sign the permission slip for them to attend, but it assured us, more than once that they would not teach about reproduction.  I'm pleased that Pook thought this was as funny as I did.  Really, what was the point?  But he's already aware of all the data, if not perhaps the emotional aspects of it all.  So, the day of the field trip I reminded him to "learn something!" and asked him after school if he'd learned anything new.  His response?  "I'm going to grow hair here (crotch), here (armpits), here (face), and here (chest) and I might lose it here (head)!"

Well, ok.


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