Oliver was running around the play room this afternoon with a hockey stick and ball. I couldn’t make out what he was saying immediately, but it didn’t take me long to realize he was shouting, “Focus, guys! Focus!” Evidently we use the word “focus” a lot around here.
Not an hour later he and Ryan were picking up the playroom from the days undoing and I was playing sudoku on the computer. (I have an addiction. I’m ashamed.) They were chattering back and forth, and in a quiet moment Oliver spoke up, “Daddy, what time is it?”
Ryan: “What??”
Oliver: “What time is it?”
Ryan: “Um, it’s 4:15?” (We exchange confused glances.)
Oliver: “Oh.” Satisfied, he goes on picking up the play room.
>So cute! Don’t you love when original things start coming out of their mouths (even if it is things they have overheard). Can I tell you how many times a day I hear “what time is it?” Maybe you should tell him it really doesn’t matter all that much ;)
>And oh, the nap time wars. Stick it out; after a few months of warring (and often Micah winning) he is back to napping every day!!
>I get the “what time is it?” thing a lot here, too. its quite funny.
>Oh, sweet Oliver. Being a big boy. Tell him to stop doing that, okay?
>ps: I just took a bunch of old formal dresses to Sequels yesterday, including some Christmas Banquet favorites. Thought you’d like to know. I just had to relinquish my hold on them and admit that I am never going to fit in a size 0 or 2 again.