Teddy and I dawdled in bed, listening to music. What could be better than a day that starts with "Cool" (from West Side Story), "I Wan'na Be Like You," "Jail House Rock," "Put Your Finger in the Air," "Truckin'," "Rainbow Connection," and snuggles?
Because we were running late, I said no when he wanted to join me in the shower. Getting a three-year-old tangled in my legs is not conducive to speedy bathing. And yet there he was, diaper stripped off and ready to go, as I stepped out of the shower.
He compensated for the disappointment by investigating his penis further.
"Teddy, do you want to try peeing in the toilet? You'll get a quarter." (We ran out of potty presents; now he gets money.)
"No. I want to play. My penis is fun."
He did ultimately earn his quarter. It's cheaper, delays gratification, and may be a good segue to an allowance. He resisted for the first couple of days (toddlers aren't great on delayed gratification; neither am I, for that matter), but now he's saving his quarters to buy himself something. Some days it's a car, some days a truck. If he keeps hoarding, he'll be able to buy a train.
Oh, the excitement.
Current Location: Boston
Current Mood: 
okay
okay