The Short Kid’s on a stealth kick. He moves through the house (and the outdoors and most public places, such as Walmart) like a secret agent-slash-ninja, crouched a little, ducking behind things, eyes darting left and right. And whichever family member is closest is expected to hum the Mission Impossible theme. As his father and older brother don’t find him nearly as amusing as I do, I’m usually the one stuck providing the soundtrack so I’m seriously considering finding it somewhere and putting it on his mp3 player. Mr. Secret Agent Man decided to do his little stealth routine getting in the car this morning and 1) wiped crap from the car all over his clothes and 2) after I opened the door he threw himself in to avoid detection and ended up doing the turtle routine on the floor. Very stealthy. I encourage silliness—often instigate it, honestly—but he’s starting to get on my nerves and I’m fixin’ to go all SPECTRE on his Bond. |
Can you see him now?
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You go Mom. Hum that theme. He can come play with my stealth Special Ops soldier. He LOVES that game. :thumb:
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He’d love to play with your soldier. I swear, if ever a child needed a twin, it’s this one. It’s exhausting entertaining him. The Tall Kid is like me—give me a book or a notebook and leave me alone while I hide in the corner. The Short Kid can’t walk two steps without having a cohort.
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My baby brother was in to Ninja. Big Time. he had a full on Ninja ensemble that he wore. Everywhere. So. Imagine if you will. Me at 13 with a Ninja stalking me everywhere I went. I was remarkably tolerant.