Instead of doing the dishes, I decided to write down a few of my more important thoughts racing through my head like. . . "Connor's favorite color is green." Before you judge the importance of this statement please understand how vital this color is to my youngest little squirt these days. Here is the evidence of the crucialness of this color:
The only crayon Connor uses is the green one. Let me illustrate. Every day at preschool Connor comes home with coloring pages. ALL green. Every Sunday Connor comes home with coloring pages. ALL green. The following statement may appear sacreligious to some so skip to the next paragraph if you're squeamish. . . This Sunday he brought home a picture of Jesus and John the Baptist - they both looked exactly like the Incredible Hulk. (He does use brown for the hair so its more realistic you know!)
Okay, so I'll admit that this blog has temporarily turned into a mish mosh of Connor stories. I'm tired. Its my blog. So on to another cute Connor story.
The other evening after dinner, Connor waltzed into the dining room (where I was doing dishes by the way) wearing a Mickey Mouse pajama top that was two sizes too small for him. I'm not sure how he managed to get it on, but I started gushing about how proud I was of him for taking the inititive to put his p.j.'s on without being asked - only I didn't use the word "inititive."
Anyway, I asked him why he changed his shirt (he had been wearing his favorite green dinosaur shirt - see picture). Turns out it was not because he had been pro-actively getting ready for bed. Oh No! He made it very clear that he changed his shirt "Because it was hurting my nose." And then he rolled his eyes and gave me that "duh mom" look. He was like "how could you not know that! Ugh." (I added the Ugh)
He had to get back to his busy train schedule so I thought for a moment and using my Monk like sleuth skills I solved the shirt swapping mystery. Here's what happened. . . I realized that Connor had a runny nose and like every other 4 year old boy, he had been wiping it on his shirt all day. The dinosaur on the front was cute, but also quite abrasive and was hurting his poor little red nose. Logically the boy HAD to change the shirt (not use a tissue.) When I went in to put him to bed later that night I found out that all of his clothes had been taken - thrown - out of his drawer in search of the softest possible kleenex (I mean shirt).
Connor is nothing if not a problem solver. . . and a green lovin' fool!