Croquet With The Roc

I Thought You Wanted To Be A Garbage Man

"I wish I were a mammal," The Roc sighed, apropos of nothing.

Subtle Like A Roc

"That shirt is pretty," The Roc told me, patting my stomach. "To make it more pretty, you could put a baby in it."

Have You Seen Your Mommy's Purse Lately?

The mommy of one of The Roc's friends is pregnant. Checking out her baby bump, The Roc asked: "Why do you have such a big..." I panicked, ready to jump in with an apology and a lecture on pregnancy-related etiquette. Then The Roc finished his sentence: "...such a big purse?"

Eating Animals

Although The Roc shows no signs of converting to vegetarianism, my four-year anti-meat propaganda campaign is finally paying off. The Roc now understands that chicken (the animal) and chicken (the food) are one and the same. At dinner, he always asks me: "Mommy, am I eating animals tonight?" And today at the grocery store, as we passed the live lobster tank, he said cheerfully and in full hearing of several of our fellow shoppers: "Bye bye, lobsters! You're going to have a sad life and then you'll get eaten!"

And I'm Playing Get Your Butt Back Into Bed

Early this morning, I awoke to the head-splitting cacophony of The Roc banging his toy broom against a metal folding chair.

"I'm playing musical chairs," he explained.

Dinner, She Wrote

Last night at the dinner table, The Roc draped his napkin over his head and pretended to type on a computer. "I'm Little Red Writing Hood," he explained, without irony.

Making A Monkey Out of Leroy

The Roc picked out his Halloween costume early this year; he's going to be a monkey. That left him with a lot of time on his hands to think about Leroy's costume. Leroy is our cat.

Aside from the logistics of getting Leroy into a Halloween costume, I pointed out that it might be hard to find one designed for a cat (a blatant lie; you can buy them at PetCo pretty much year-round). But this did not deter The Roc, who by now had his heart set on a matching monkey suit for Leroy.

"You just get some brown fabric and some yellow fabric and"--here he threw his arms up, to show how easy it would be--"done!"

Taking Out the Trash

Just when I thought The Roc already had every toy trash truck in the world, we spotted a slightly different one in a local toy store. When he was still talking about it on an hourly basis a week later, I realized that he was not going to give up his dream of owning it. Ever. The Roc knows what he likes, and he is nothing if not an obsessive completist--a trait I recognize and respect, because I share it.

But Daddy absolutely refused to consider expanding the fleet, which already occupies several square feet of prime real estate around the filing cabinet in our combination office/playroom. I informed The Roc that he was going to have to figure out a way to convince Daddy that buying yet another trash truck was a good idea.

"It could be a surprise for Daddy," he suggested.

"Surprises are supposed to be nice things," I explained. "That kind of surprise won't make Daddy very happy."

"We could call the police and they could put Daddy in jail and then we could go to the store and buy it."

"Ummm....no."

"We could sell some of my old toys on Craig's List and use the money to buy it."

Bingo. A few hours later, we had a emptied a corner of the office/playroom and made enough cash to buy the trash truck with a couple of dollars left over. Daddy was thrilled.

Brontosaurus Burgers, Anyone?

Mommy: "What do you want for dinner?"

The Roc: "Meat."

Mommy: "What kind of meat?"

The Roc: "Dinosaur meat."

Finally, A Vacation Destination We Can Actually Afford

We were discussing (fantasy) vacation plans over dinner and asked The Roc which country he'd most like to visit. He thought it over for a minute and replied: "The United States." When we explained that we already lived in the United States, he protested: "No, we live in Pasadena." We informed him that Pasadena was, indeed, part of the United States. In all his four years, I don't think I've ever seen him laugh so hard.

Apologies to Anyone I Flashed in the Pool Parking Lot

A few months ago, I parallel parked, got out of the car, and walked around the other side to get The Roc out of his car seat, only to find him standing by the curb, waiting for me. He'd somehow gotten out of his car seat and opened and shut the car door all by himself. Since then, we've been using the back seat child safety lock, which, like most devices designed to promote child safety, is extremely hazardous to adults.

The other day, after swimming lessons, I got in the back seat with The Roc to help him change out of his wet bathing suit. (The pool where he takes swimming lessons doesn't allow boys over three in the women's locker room. Because it's perfectly safe and appropriate to send a four-year-old into the men's locker room by himself, right?) I shut the car door behind me, forgetting that I would be unable to open it again from the inside, even though it was unlocked. Once I got The Roc dressed and strapped into his car seat, I realized I would have to crawl over him to get to the front seat.

It wasn't the first time that had happened since we activated the child safety lock. Unfortunately, this time, I was wearing a skirt. Even more unfortunately, my skirt was caught in the back door. Which, as you'll recall, I couldn't open.

In Which My Psychic Powers Fail Me Once Again

Last night, The Roc and I went out for our usual post-dinner, pre-bath walk. He took the trike, I walked. About halfway through our usual loop around the park, The Roc stopped short and jumped off the trike.

"Mommy, I want to walk home."

It was a long way, and Mommy's back is not what it used to be, so I told him I couldn't carry the trike all the way home. He jumped back on and raced off in the direction of home.

By the time I caught up with him, we were about halfway there. I stopped him and gave him a stern lecture about the dangers of riding his trike too fast and told him if he didn't slow down and ride alongside me the rest of the way home he would not be seeing his trike again for a long, long time.

Finally, we turned into our driveway. The Roc abandoned his trike in the driveway and ran inside. I shouted for him to come back and put the trike in the garage, but he was long gone.

Exasperated, I put away the trike, locked the garage, and went inside, where Daddy was sitting on the couch.

"Where is he?" I demanded.

"In the bathroom. He must have needed to go pretty bad, because he ran right past me."

Got Chlorine?

The Roc is taking swimming lessons. Today, he put his face in the water and held it there for a good 10 seconds.

"Wow, you can hold your breath a long time," I told him when he got out of the pool.

The Roc laughed.

"I wasn't holding my breath!" he said.

Happy Birthday to The Roc!

The Roc turned four today, and we celebrated with a matinee and a trip to Toys R Us to spend his birthday money. I suggested a fancy Lego house. We also perused the Lincoln Logs, Playmobil, and Thomas the Tank Engine aisles. But nothing seemed to interest The Roc.

Then we saw it. A toy garbage truck. Perhaps the only toy garbage truck in the world The Roc doesn't already own. His face lit up. He carried it all the way to the checkstand, then asked me to take it out of the box so he could play with it in the car on the way home. He still had some birthday money left over, but he didn't even want to look at any other toys. You'd think he had never seen a toy garbage truck before, though he has a whole fleet of them in different shapes, sizes, and colors.

"Doesn't he already have that garbage truck?" Daddy asked me when we got home.

"No," I said. "This one's a recycling truck, and it's green, and it's a front-loader."

"He has a green front-loader."

"This one is bigger. And it makes noise. And it's his birthday."

What can I say? I lobbied hard for that Lego house. But secretly I'm glad that even though The Roc is getting older and taller and less dependent on me, some things haven't changed.

Advantage: The Roc

Today at the playground, a slightly bigger boy started hassling The Roc. The Roc got right in his face, and I braced for a fight. But The Roc just looked him in the eye and said quietly: "That's not cool." And walked away.

Roc 'N' Cheese

Today I caught The Roc chewing on the packet of cheese powder that came with the organic bunny-shaped macaroni and cheese I bought for Easter.

"I made a mistake," he explained through a mouthful of cheese powder.

Toddler Humor -- Part II

The Roc: "Daddy, I'm going to say something to make you laugh. You have chocolate pie in your hair."

Daddy: "No, I don't."

The Roc: "Mommy, now I'm going to say something to make you laugh. You look like a knife."

Mommy (to Daddy): "I think he got his sense of humor from your side of the family."

All The Better to Eat You With

I recently found myself in a Japanese grocery store and seized the opportunity to stock up on wacky snack foods, including this box of Pocky featuring The Roc's hero, Thomas the Tank Engine.

The Roc opened it, pulled out a piece, looked confused, and said: "This doesn't look anything like Thomas."

See You Later, Alligator -- Part II

On a recent trip to the zoo, we stopped to check out the alligator. As we left, I told The Roc to say: "See you later, alligator!"

"See you next time, alligator!" he cried.

"No, see you later, alligator," I corrected.

"See you later!" he repeated, waving goodbye.

Something tells me he's not quite ready for the subtle linguistic nuances of "After a while, crocodile."

Toddler Humor

The Roc: "I have a funny joke for you. What if a shark ate a seal?"

Mommy: "What if a shark ate a seal?"

The Roc: "Yes. It's a funny joke."

Mommy: "I don't get it. Sharks eat seals all the time."

The Roc: "Why?"

Mommy: "That's their favorite food."

The Roc: "Mommy, killing animals is NOT funny."

Actually, I'm Gelatinous

The Roc: "Mommy, why is your hair sticky?"

Mommy: "I put gel in it."

The Roc: "Oh! You're jealous."

Trash Talking

Thanks in large part to Trader Joe's letter-shaped Cinnamon Schoolbook Cookies, The Roc can now recognize every letter in the alphabet. However, knowing the alphabet is not the same thing as knowing how to spell, as he recently demonstrated while throwing away some trash.

"P-U-S-H," he read on the flap of the garbage bin. Then he added authoritatively: "That spells 'Trash.'"

P.S. I'm Not Sure If Fish Count As Animals

Dear Netflix,
Please don't send us any more movies about talking animals. My son refuses to watch them. He is three years old and he knows animals can't talk. However, the following are acceptable: talking trains, talking cars, talking dinosaurs, talking toys, talking babies, and talking vegetables.
Thanks,
Mommy

Skunk Dreams

The Roc: "I had a dream about skunks."

Mommy: "I had a dream about airplanes."

The Roc: "You're so lucky, Mommy."