Life is pretty peaceful around here, enlivened by occasional outbursts of boyish frustration engendered by the combination of his absolute conviction that I can read his mind and can therefore write his stories for him exactly as he wishes, and his inability to find the words he wants to do it himself. He really wants to be someplace else, or even just outside, and it’s too hot even for him. We have heat warnings around here right now, best summarized as “stay in air conditioning if you possibly can”. We can, and we are.
But the threat du jour, when he does get frustrated, is that he’s going to “run away forever”….or at least until dinnertime. He plans it carefully, putting his most treasured toys in a large plastic tub. Of course, then it’s too heavy for him and he has to ask me to carry it for him. I usually tell him I’ll get it when he figures out where it is to go. (I have yet to actually pick it up.) And then he puts his kitten in her bed to attempt to carry her along as well…only she jumps out and runs to hide in the attic. So then he has to chase the kitten up to the attic, track her down, get her out, and bring her downstairs. By that point I hear “Mom! Guess who I have?”, and all thoughts of running away are quite forgotten. Pretty soon he settles down to watch a movie with kitten cuddled in his arms. He tends to watch his movies on endless loop, though – the same movie, over and over, for several days running. My definition of a true “children’s classic” is one I can have running as the sound track of my life for three consecutive days without wanting to break the video. “Mary Poppins” is the current one, and fits that definition nicely.
On the other hand, if I have to listen to “The Tigger Movie” one more time, I believe the one who will be running away will be mom…and I might actually make it out the door.