Captain Adventure has discovered the joys of the tea party.
I suppose it was inevitable, being as he is drowning in big sisters who are all of the Girly-Girl persuasion. Apparently, while we were down in LA, the sisters had a tea party (complete with chocolate crinkle cookies) and he became entranced with the little porcelain tea set.
I mean, really…can it get much better than this? You’ve got a teapot with a spout for pouring water, and little cups to pour water into, and you can refill the pot from the refrigerator water spigot (conveniently located near the ground, in case you happen to be a bit on the short side due to being only four years old).
Furthermore, custom dictates that anybody you pour for must say, “Thank you!”, which is rather gratifying, and then courtesy demands that they drink at least some of the water, which means that you can trot back and forth from the spigot to the table until your little legs wear out from under you.
ANY four year old might do this until the adults in the crowd were thoroughly tired of the whole sport. Captain Adventure brings to bear a level of single-minded dedication that is truly…mind-numbing.
Sigh.
He’ll get over it eventually. All new groovy things are like this for him: When he decides he likes something, he likes it intensely. For a while, he would watch the same Dora DVD over and over and over again. You weren’t allowed to change it. He didn’t want to watch a different one. No. THIS Dora. This SAME Dora. AGAIN.
…and again…and again…and again…
Last night, the first thing he did when he got home was make a beeline for the tea set. He took out the cups and the teapot, filled up the teapot and then began carefully pouring out water and bringing it to each family member.
“’Ere’e’go, Eld-st!” he sang out, shoving the cup at her.
“Thank you, Captain Adventure,” Eldest giggled, taking a sip while he stared at her with slack-jawed adoration. “Yum yum!”
“OK! OK!” Ah, the party is going well so far! He poured another cup.
“Ere’e’go, Mommy!” he shouted, shoving it at me enthusiastically. Serving Mommy is The Best, see, because usually, Mommy does everything? So it’s like, proof of Big Boyhood and stuff to do things myself around here right now.
The cup, naturally, sloshed its entire contents onto the table. “OH NO! OH NO! IT PILL!!! I DO IT! IIIIIIIII DOOOOOOOO IIIIIIIIIIT!!!!”
It is important to scream these things very loudly, otherwise someone else might pimp your gig by getting a towel and mopping up the spill instead of letting you do it yourself. Alone! Because, hello, Big Boy! Geesh, like I couldn’t handle this all by myself…
He ran for a towel, threw it in the general direction of the spilled water (not to be confused with onto the spilled water, because he actually missed that entirely), rubbed vigorously for a moment (screaming, “I DO IT!” anytime I tried to point out that he was missing the spill), then refilled the cup and set it gently in front of me.
“Ere. Ere’e’go! MOMMY! Ere’e’go!!! No, not like DAT!” Mommy had to be chastised for inappropriately attempting to sop up some of the water he’d missed…which was most of it. “I DO IT!”
“Oh. OK. YOU do it.” Oh well, at least I’d gotten the towel positioned over the spill, so his efforts were actually doing something…
“Ere’e’go!” he reminded me, then stood and watched wide-eyed as I drank the sip of water from the cup.
“Very nice, thank you,” I said.
“OK! OK! I’s’get’a’MOH!”
“Actually, I think I’m good…oh dear…”
Several pots of water later, we were all extremely anxious to bring the party to an end. Suggestions were made. Games, coloring, turns on a Nintendo, potty break, c’mon, kid, work with us here, we’re DROWNING…
“Captain Adventure, sweetheart, I’m full up!” I announced at last. “No more tea, please. All done!”
He peered into the teapot, then looked back at me with an expression that clearly said What…an…IDIOT.
“Nooooo, mommy. Dat not right. Dat wah-der. Not is eeeeee. Is. Wah. Der.” He said it very slowly and carefully, because obviously, Mommy is a tad on the slow side. Sheesh. Thinks it’s tea in here, what a crayon…
Just think…in a few years? There will be a heavy sigh and an eye-roll to go along with such declarations.
But I’m planning to record him saying it, so I can blackmail him forever. “It was sooooo cute, the way he used to say it…here, let me play it for you, didn’t he just have the cutest little voice ever?”
{click} Dat not right. Not is eeeeeee. Is. Wah. Der.
{eeeeee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee…}
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6 comments:
OMG thats is the cutest thing ever!!! you should tape it! ~M
on the positive side, at least you dont live on the East Coast and have to deal with the word being pronounced "wudder". he is a cutie, i think you should YouTube it.
that is very very funny:) Even himself, when I called him over to read it, is still giggling over that.
You are evil, LOL. Taping it. I speak from experience as I have video of my nephew pitching a royal fit in my dining room. He was about 3.
It does make for nice blackmail later on in life. :)
Hey, he's talking, he's interacting, he's role playing. Life is good!
I recently had the pleasure of discovering film of my boyfriend at age 2. He was a screamer. It was Hilarious! Tape it!
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