This confession from this ordinary person is mainly for the sake of posterity -- I don't want to forget the cute and funny things my kids do...
I had put Parker (two years old) down for a nap. We went through our usual routine: potty, diaper change, book, bed. I closed his door and went about my business in the house, reclining on the couch eating bon-bons. I wish. But I heard him talking to himself -- and this is a normal thing for him -- but the talking had gone on way longer than usual, so I went in to check on him. He was still in bed, but playing with a toy, and the Sand Man was nowhere in sight. I read him another book and left him to try to get to sleep. Still, fifteen minutes or so later, I heard him having a party. I stopped at his door to listen, and even with the door shut, I could smell a lovely fragrance. Really, it was. It was quite lovely. I opened the door to find him standing on the floor with his diaper rash powder upside down, and he was shaking it with all his might. Pink powder was EVERYWHERE -- on the foot of his bed, on some of his toys, on the carpet, on him. It smelled wonderful though. But my mood was not wonderful. I asked him what he thought he was doing. He said, "I pour out my Monkey Butt." This powder is actually called Anti-Monkey Butt Diaper Rash Powder, but it's more fun just to say Monkey Butt...trust me. I very firmly and very loudly told him to...
Get. Back. In. Bed. Right. NOW. Mister. And stay there and go to sleep.
I was furious, even if I secretly thought it was funny as all get out. So two hours later, he woke up and it was time to get in the car to pick up his older brother from school.
Once we were home, I commenced to taking all the pink-powdered toys onto the porch where I dusted them off. Then I took the vaccum cleaner into the bedroom to work on the carpet. Parker heard the racket I was making and came in to investigate. We had a conversation:
Parker: Mom, what are you doing?
Me: I'm cleaning up this mess you made. Remember? You poured out all your Monkey Butt powder.
Parker: That wasn't me.
***This, to my knowledge, was Parker's first lie ever. My insides (and probably some of my outsides) were jiggling with the laughter I was trying hold in. I kept telling myself, "Don't let him see you smile - don't let him see you smile...")***
Me: EXCUSE me? You didn't make this mess? Then who did?
Parker: That was Swine Beard. (He actually pronounces it "Fwine Beard.")
OK -- a word about Swine Beard. One Friday night, while my family was having a picnic on the floor and eating our favorite take-out pizza (Marco's), we decided to choose a movie from Netflix. We watched _The Return of the Pink Panther_. There is a particular scene where Inspector Clouseau is in a hotel room, snooping for clues, and a pet parrot becomes uncaged and flies around the room. He keeps saying things like, "Get back here, you swine bird." Nicholas started saying, "swine bird" with every other phrase from his mouth, and Parker started imitating him. Since two year olds generally have trouble pronouncing words containing the letter "R", his imitation of his older brother came out as "swine beard."
What is now known as the Monkey Butt Incident was two or three weeks ago, and Swine Beard has made several appearances now. He (or she) is Parker's imaginary friend. I LOVE this! I think imaginary friends are wonderful. It means Parker is thinking outside the box, outside his normal world. He is being creative and inventive. These are good things. And to this day, his bedroom still smells lovely.
