For the past few days - all day and every day - my four-year old has been asking me about his upcoming trip to the beach. He knew that the big day was getting closer, and today it finally arrived.
It was the first thing he asked about when he came crawling down the stairs, still half-asleep and not really ready to be awake just after 8 this morning.
"I go to the beach today?"
Yes, baby.
He asked about it every five minutes. He didn't want to eat breakfast this morning, assuming of course that he would be having a meal on his way. When I told him Grandma and Grandpa weren't coming until after his brothers came home from school this afternoon, then he was ready to ship them off to school right that minute. You know, at 9:30, even though school doesn't start until 10:35.
While his brothers were in school, we ran a few errands. We picked up some library books, which usually takes a while, what with the flipping through board books and working the puzzles in the children's section. Not today. He was in a hurry. Grandma and Grandpa were on their way.
We also had to stop at the grocery store. He didn't want to go, but once inside the toy aisle called his name and we did browse for a few minutes, looking that things he kept trying to persuade me to buy (no such luck, kiddo). But then he suddenly remembered what day it was, and it was time to get moving again.
"We go pay now and go home. Grandma and Grandpa are coming."
This afternoon, baby, after school. Around 2 p.m.
So we finish our errands, head back home and take Buster on a much needed walk around the block (Connor is, of course, riding his Big Wheel). Then I ask him about lunch. Yet again, he's not hungry. He's going to eat later, you know, on the way. I convince him to have a little something, since he won't be on his way for a few hours yet.
Grandma and Grandpa pull in the drive at maybe 10 after 2. They're late, as far as Connor is concerned. He pulls his usual trick of hiding under the pool table for just a minute, and then he's bouncing around ready to go. As in, RIGHT NOW. It's time to go to the beach.
Of course, he's not really going until Saturday morning, which I've tried to explain numerous times. He's going to the lake today so that Grandpa doesn't have to drive two hours north the day before he drives 12 hours south. And Grandma is still terribly afraid he will cry if we try to drop him off at their house and then go back home without him, so that's not an option either.
So, much to his displeasure, they stayed to visit with us and his brothers for a while. We eventually packed and loaded him into Grandpa's truck. I could barely get a "Bye-bye, see you later!" out of him, so excited and ready to go was my son. But as the truck is backing out, I hear him pipe up from the back seat.
"Have good time. Be good. Take care of babies. You keep them off the stairs, 'kay?"
Such a sweet little boy, don't you think? And so very considerate of his little brothers. And laugh out loud funny. Where does he come up with this stuff?
