Yesterday, Cole bit into a hot dog--veggie, of course, but yay! We've added a new food!--and declared it "scrumptious."
Later, he said he likes "Jazzercise."
No, he really said that. Does ANYONE use that term anymore? Isn't that a relic from the Jane Fonda workout era? Totally, utterly confused by that one.
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He's become very interested in death, and is trying to work out how and why people die. Yesterday he assured me that it will be a longlonglonglonglonglonglonglonglong time 'til he will die. I agreed that, yes, he has a very long life ahead of him. Suddenly, he clutched his chest and said, "Mama? Don't let them take my heart when I die, ok?"
Um.
I said I wouldn't. And then it made me feel weird, because if the worst possible thing on earth happened, if he were taken from us, I probably WOULD take his heart for another child. A betrayal?
Creepy. Let's move on to another silly thing.
****
Last night, when it was time for brushing, he ran his tongue over his teeth and said, "I need to brush, mom. My teeth are rusty."
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Riis was fussy this morning; she's battling a cold and not suffering fools gladly. Cole had been bugging her, poking her on the couch and generally disturbing the peace. She broke into a full wail, and Cole, eager to avoid being blamed, told me in no uncertain terms, "I think she thinks we're trying to kill her."
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