Just over one week ago, on Nate’s third birthday, James decided to move Nathaniel’s crib into “the big boy room.” That’s code for James reclaiming Nate’s room as his home office and personal eBay distribution center.
The first night went fairly well. As usual, Jake left his room 200 times under the guise of various ruses. At one point we heard Nate responsibly yell from his crib, “Jacob, go to sleep!”
Unfortunately, the second night Nate got scared and in a panic, extended his reach too far. Instead of getting the light switch, he toppled head first out of his crib into a wooden crate filled with the dagger-like spines of children’s books. His poor little black and blue face now matches his black and blue Superman shirt.
And of course the daylight saving time change is not helping the situation. I hear them back there playing and goofing around and prolonging our ability to relax and watch good TV. Nate’s mature influence was short-lived. Now he’s out here asking questions about whether Jacob can punch monsters in the face and looking for a flashlight and his water and first class tickets to Crazy Town.
A couple of nights ago I was reading How Do Dinosaurs Say Good Night?
I got to the end where the dinosaur crawls into bed, gives a big kiss and turns out the light. The book reads, “They tuck in their tails. They whisper, ‘Good night!’ They give a big hug, then give one kiss more. Good night. Good night, little dinosaur.”
Nate asks me, “Why I can’t do dat?”
“I’ve been asking myself that for a week… Why can’t you do that?”
He smiles cunningly, “I don’t have a tail.”
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