We have been enormously pleased with our boychick’s sudden leap in maturity over the last couple of weeks. He is remembering his responsibilities without reminders, gathering his things for school in the morning before he is told, doing his homework before asking for a treat like a run to the beach on a hot afternoon, turning his homework in at school without reminder and bringing home the books he’ll need without forgetting one. Sure he’s still distractible; that comes with the territory, but overall he’s made one of his quantum leaps. And the nature of his playing, too, has shown the shift.
But then he does something to remind us that he’s still our little guy. We ran him a bath with bubbles, and he had washed and was playing. I was doing dishes when I heard “Mom, look at me!” And there he was, festooned in bubbles, doing his best imitation of a cartoon monster, roaring at me with his arms out. “Eek! It’s a naked-boy-monster!” elicited a grin, another roar, and “I am the naked-boy-monster-zombie, and I’m going to get you. RRAAAR!” Whereupon I shrieked appropriately and then sent the naked-boy-monster-zombie back to rinse the bubbles off and dry himself, because it was bedtime.
Bubble-covered boy-monsters are a lot of fun. I’m glad he hasn’t quite outgrown that yet.