Saurs
Greetings to everyone.
No, saurs is not the Asian coronavirus. This is the name Xavier calls dinosaurs.
In the early 1990s I worked with a woman who sold Discovery Toys as a second job. This generally meant she would either host a toy party or invite someone to host the party. It was like a Tupperware party, only with educational children's toys. She also fished in the pool of office workers.
I was just thirty at the time, maybe thirty-one. Though unmarried and with no prospects at the time, still I imagined myself taking a wife and having children of my own. I entertained such an idea from my very young years. To that end, even into my mid thirties, I kept many of my toys I had as a child: my collections of Lego, Hot Wheels cities, a castle with siege equipment, children's books.
When Liz circulated a catalog at work, a set of Mini-Dinos caught my eye. I thought, "My son would love those! We could learn to count with them, learn colors, study set theory, and just have fun with them." (yes, those thoughts actually ran through my mind). So, I bought a box.
As years went on, my prospects of marriage seemed to grow less and less. In my early forties I boxed up all the children's books I had been saving, the Hot Wheels city, the castle, the Lego and nearly everything else and gave it to my then seven year old nephew. I held on to the Mini-Dinos, however.
Last night Xavier found the box in his closet. "Saurs!" he exclaimed. Excitedly, he pulled it from the shelf and wanted me to help him open it. Together, we opened the box and pulled out the thirty-some very colorful dinosaurs. It did not take long for Xavier to identify his favorite ones: the pteranodons.
We played with these the rest of the night. We flew them around the house. They rode on the train Xavier got for Christmas. They hid in caves, then jumped out to scare Daddy. They ate second dinner with Xavier. When Xavier went to bed, he took two of the six with him.
At one point, the pteranodons so inspired Xavier that we both were crawling around on our hands and knees chasing each other and roaring loudly. This with two or three little pteranodons in our hands. We "attacked" one another, crawled through imaginary forests, and not-so-imaginary cloth tunnels, tents and pillow forts. Xavier even put in Ice Age: Age of the Dinosaurs to play in the background as we roared around the basement.
Xavier calls his pteranodons by the same sound his gives them: "Caws." These toys have been educational, indeed. Who knew that pteranodons made a "caw-caw" sound as they flew? I didn't until last night.
Xavier Pulls His Weight
Greetings to everyone.
One of the important bachelor lessons Xavier has learned is that you don't have to live like a slob. This is a great lesson he has picked up.
Xavier initiates vacuuming the carpet. He will tug, push and pull the vacuum, even our heavier one, to where he finds dirt (like his play molding sand) on the floor. He has mastered pulling out the wall socket safety inserts, so he will pull one out of the socket. He unwinds the cord and plugs it into the newly opened socket. Then, away he goes! He finds it easier to use the brush or crevice attachments than to wield the bulky carpet beater around (though he does push it around if he must).
Afterward, when the vacuuming is finished, Xavier winds up the cord (usually needing Dad's help) and returns the vacuum to it storage place. He then replaces the socket safety plug back into the socket.
Not only does Xavier assist with vacuuming, he also washes dishes. Often, he will displace Dad from doing that task. He will take over the washing and the rinsing. It does take him five times as long to clean as he plays in the water at the same time.
Xavier cleans his plate after dinner by taking it to the cupboard under the sink and dumping it into the trash can. When he finds some trash on the floor, he puts it in the trash also.
The other night we were coloring together using a box of eight crayons, which Xavier dumped out on the floor. Xavier left the room then returned. The empty crayon box he left with was no longer in his hand. When our coloring time ended, I asked him "Where is the crayon box?" Xavier ran into the kitchen, got into the trash and extracted the box he threw away.
Now, to teach him how to pick up the food he drops, or the books in his room, or his Hot Wheels (which are everywhere).
Xavier's Maternal Instinct Peeks Out
Greetings to everyone.
Shortly after getting dressed for the day, Xavier ran into Middle Earth to play. I was in the kitchen packing him snacks. Prepping for church, we'd be away for a few hours and the fridge stores were getting low, so I was scrounging.
I turned to watch Xavier place one of his cars into his highchair. He did this after carefully straightening out the seat belt straps. Once convinced the car had no intentions of getting out of the chair, Xavier moved to the refrigerator.
With a slight exertion and a grunt, he pulled open the door. Unlike Dad, he had no problem finding something suitable. He twisted off the top of the container holding his diced cantaloupe. He finger-fed two or three cubes to his car.
Putting away the cantaloupe, he pulled out a bag of pepperoni. Disappearing into Middle Earth again, he returned with a pink lion stuffed animal a friend of ours bought for him. He placed the lion next to the car.
Our son somehow knew that lions eat meat, so he fed the lion pepperoni.