Monday, July 25, 2011

Complicated

Life, as an adult, I've found can be complicated. Sometimes the complication is my own doing... most of the time it's my own doing. You see, I tend to over think some things. Shocker, I know.

Sometimes it's a conversation that I'll play over and over again in my head, like an athlete trying to learn from a coaching video. I'm not sure what I'm trying to get out of it... after all, what's in the past is in the past.

I've also found that stuff really complicates things. I don't really care for a lot of stuff... but you wouldn't know it by looking at my house. With three little people, copious amounts of stuff comes with the territory. My mode now is in controlling the mess. I'm not sure that I'm gaining on it... but it's a work in progress.

Our little Benett likes to complicate things, in his own little way. Specifically, he likes to add syllables:

  • We don't play at the park, in Benett's world we play at the "parking lot."
  • He enjoys playing with "Lightning McQueen Ca-chow."
  • There is no such thing as cake, but he loves "cupcakes."
  • He refers to his sandals as "beach party shoes."
  • And when we tuck Benett in to bed, he says, "Good night... don't let the bed-bugs out." (Disturbing.)

So, if Benett asks you if you want to, "Wear your beach party shoes to the parking lot to play with Lightning McQuee Ca-chow and eat cupcakes..." consider saying 'yes.' It might be a good time. Provided the bed bugs don't get out.

No comments:

Post a Comment