The athlete formerly known as....
On Saturday Addison announced that he was no longer Addison. He would now be known as "Malone."
So:
ME: Addison, you have to eat the crusts on your bread.
He just looks at me with this impatient, tight-lipped stare. So serious that (from a three year old) it is absurd.
ME: You have to eat them.
ADDISON: I *not* addison.
ME: I'm sorry. Malone, you have to eat the Crusts of your bread.
He acquieses happily, starts to eat his crusts (unlike, if I may derail, the episode of the cold mushy carrots that dragged on for two hours tonight), and smile winningly at me.
ME: So I never get to call you Addison again?
ADDISON: No!
ME: Never?
ADDISON: NO! I still will be Addison, just not NOW! (as if such rules had been handed out on three by five cards to everyone while iw as out of the room and how could I have missed them!?)
Lynn adapts to such shifts in identity much more fluidly than I. Several hours later she calls onto the playporch:
LYNN: Jaelyn, Malone, I want you to clean up your papers.
Addison whirls around in his chair -- he's sporting the exasperated impatient look again.
ADDISON: I not Malone anymore!
LYNN: So what do we call you?
ADDISON: Just "Honey."
LYNN: Okay. Honey and Jaelyn can you clean up the papers and the glue and the sisscors.
ADDISON: YOU (!) not my mommy . YOu not call me honey. Only JaeJae call me honey! She's my mommy!
LYNN: Okay, just clean up the glue. Both of you. Honies, Malones, whoever....
But as she returms to the kitchen, Addison chases her back in:
ADDISON: I'm still Malone when I'm playing soccer.
LYNN: Okay. Got it. Cool, Malone.
Exasperation again. Does he have to get our a flannelgraph board for us?
ADDISON: I NOT playing soccer right now.
and he runs, a little disgusted, back to the playporch to pick up his glue & papers.
So:
ME: Addison, you have to eat the crusts on your bread.
He just looks at me with this impatient, tight-lipped stare. So serious that (from a three year old) it is absurd.
ME: You have to eat them.
ADDISON: I *not* addison.
ME: I'm sorry. Malone, you have to eat the Crusts of your bread.
He acquieses happily, starts to eat his crusts (unlike, if I may derail, the episode of the cold mushy carrots that dragged on for two hours tonight), and smile winningly at me.
ME: So I never get to call you Addison again?
ADDISON: No!
ME: Never?
ADDISON: NO! I still will be Addison, just not NOW! (as if such rules had been handed out on three by five cards to everyone while iw as out of the room and how could I have missed them!?)
Lynn adapts to such shifts in identity much more fluidly than I. Several hours later she calls onto the playporch:
LYNN: Jaelyn, Malone, I want you to clean up your papers.
Addison whirls around in his chair -- he's sporting the exasperated impatient look again.
ADDISON: I not Malone anymore!
LYNN: So what do we call you?
ADDISON: Just "Honey."
LYNN: Okay. Honey and Jaelyn can you clean up the papers and the glue and the sisscors.
ADDISON: YOU (!) not my mommy . YOu not call me honey. Only JaeJae call me honey! She's my mommy!
LYNN: Okay, just clean up the glue. Both of you. Honies, Malones, whoever....
But as she returms to the kitchen, Addison chases her back in:
ADDISON: I'm still Malone when I'm playing soccer.
LYNN: Okay. Got it. Cool, Malone.
Exasperation again. Does he have to get our a flannelgraph board for us?
ADDISON: I NOT playing soccer right now.
and he runs, a little disgusted, back to the playporch to pick up his glue & papers.
posted by Redbaerd at 10:57 PM
1 Comments:
Scott Bell:
The boy appears to be making up the rules as he goes along. Earlier, he was eating bread crusts, and said he was Malone, but later he said he was only Malone while he was playing Soccer. This is ridiculous. I'd tell him, "either come up with a standardized set of rules in 48 hours, or we're just calling you Addison." Untill the rules are completed I think you should only refer to him as "the boy."
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