Hey Owen, get used to those bars!
Mr. Owen is changing. With each day that passes he leaves behind a bit of babyhood in his slow evolution to full fledged little boy status.
Mischievous little boy status.
Last week I spotted a pile of cars left out from earlier play.
"Um, Owen....could you please pick up your cars and put them in the box?"
"Oh,
soooorry!......Sorry mom, I busy. I
workin'....finishing my homework."
He sat there doodling away on a paper that was, indeed, homework- but not his.
"Oh, you are working on homework, huh?
"Yeah, I drawing a
moooostache!
Heh,
heh,
heh!" He then looks up and flashes a smile almost identical to the one pictured above. {And just FYI, Owen thinks mustaches are unbelievably funny. Whenever he encounters one on the street or in the subway he makes sure to point it out. "Look mom,
silly moooostache!" We had the
privilege of sharing a subway car with a man sporting heavily manicured, full-blown handlebars (with the slick curl on the end) and little Owen could not have been more delighted.}
So, as you can see, he has already mastered the art of working the system. I ask him to do something, and he is
profusely apologetic about his inability. "Oh,
sorry mom!" He oozes with concern, and in the same breath assures me that he is engaged in a noble work. Homework gives you a free pass out of housework, right?
His sisters have trained him well.
Most of the time it works because it is just so very, very cute.
I have reason to believe, however, that my inability to extinguish these seemingly small infractions may have driven Owen to a life of crime.
Let me explain.
It was June. We were trying to get some belated spring cleaning accomplished, while the children were banished to their room for attempting to undo our every effort.
The doorbell rings.
Outside our door we find an
NYPD officer. What in the??
"Sir, (he was talking to Marc at the time) do you have a small boy?"
"Um, yes."
"Did you know that he is standing naked in the window?"
"
Aaaaaaa....No"
I was pretty sure he had the wrong apartment. I mean, just 5 minutes earlier I had checked on the kiddos. They were all happily playing My Little Ponies.
We went back to the room to investigate.
Nothing seemed amiss. The girls were sitting with their backs to the window, totally consumed by pony drama.
Apparently, glittery horses don't have the same draw for Owen.
We spied his clothes (including diaper) on the ground near the window ledge. Then, our eyes met the outline of a naked two year old freely dancing behind the curtain.
Yes, dancing. At that very moment, the world was his stage.
We live on the second floor above a well traveled sidewalk here in NYC, so this was quite the show.
Our little exhibitionist was not happy about leaving his fans below, and I would be very surprised if he felt even a tinge of remorse following the lecture he received. The experience left me completely
embarrassed, feeling that we would forever be branded the "naked
homeschoolers" by the neighborhood. As if we aren't weird enough.....
But now, almost two months later, I am over it.
I don't know anyone who can claim that their criminal history began at two.
I always knew my boy would be special.
Here Eva is enjoying the fruits of her labor. She got the pump to work! The slow stream coming out the half-pipe proves it.
Owen dressed in his Crocodile Hunter outfit for the occasion- just in case.
