The Nugget used the phrase, "Speaking of.." correctly this week, and it really threw me for a loop to hear such a grown-up sentence coming out of his sweet mouth. I don't remember the exact conversation, but it went something like this.
Me (to Spork): Doggie is so silly, she's going to woof-woof-woof at Miss L when she gets here.
Nugget: Speaking of dogs, I like Clifford and I wonder how he got so big.
The Nugget talked Aunt A's ear off about airplanes for a good hour, then later turned to her and asked, "Did you know I like airplanes?"
While enjoying frozen yogurt at the Nugget's favorite dessert spot in town, he spotted a little girl who looked as if she were on her way home from a dance recital. Hair up in a bun, full leotard, tutu, and tights, a dance bag slung over her chair. He watched her reverently while he consumed his yogurt, then turned to me and whispered, "That girl has a beautiful dress. I wonder what she sounds like." He decided to give her the compliment out loud, but wanted me to come with him and hold his hand while he told her how beautiful her dress was. She blushed furiously, gazed at her boots, and tried to hide the shy smile spreading across her chocolate-stained face while her mother prodded her to say thank you. Oh boy, I have visions of his teenage years, and I will cling tight to this sweet memory of when he needed his Mommy to hold his hand to give him courage to talk to a girl. We still don't know what she "sounded like" though.
Nugget: The babies don't know anguish yet.
N: No, English.
Pictured, the Nugget took Tater and me to his preschool open house. Here he is touring his classroom for next year, the 4/5's. We are officially red-shirting him and giving him an extra growth year in preschool, which will make him probably the oldest and definitely biggest kid in his Kindergarten instead of the youngest and biggest (a combination we thought would be sub-ideal). Unfortunately, private school was the only avenue to do so, but the silver lining is that we love his school, and this will give us a bonus year to experience it.
At the end of each school day, the teachers gather the children for a final circle time. The kids take turns going around the circle and sharing what each considered the best part of the day. If there is time, they also go around and share the worst part of their day. When the Nugget shares this, it is never something like, "I spilled my milk," or "The blue crayon broke." No, it is a very pointed accusation like, "The worst part of the day was when Matthew made sad choices and grabbed the truck I was playing with even though it was my turn." I haven't been present for the circle time, but I can only imagine if the Nugget's complaints are typical, circle time probably sounds like the Festivus Airing of Grievances.