Simon Random One-liners

May 3--Scott posts on facebook:

Simon: "Dad, pretty soon can we open another bag of fishy crackers?" Me: "I don't know... will you guys eat the whole bag in two days again?" Simon: [thinks for a few seconds] "Ok! So can we open one now?"

April 29--Scott's Status on Facebook:

From my 4-year-old: "Dad, licorice is *almost* like fries... almost. 'Cause it's loooong, and fries are a little bit long."

Approaching his chair for dinner that night (imagine voice inflection with attitude)

"Apparently Spencer left his coat on my chair."

April's Moho Party to Mom and Michael Wiltbank:

"We most definitely should not go play in our room! It will get all messy!"

Missing Shoes

Simon's shoes have been missing for a couple of days, but then Sierra found them in her room and put them in the boy's room.  Last night, Simon found them in his closet and exclaimed, "My shoes! I've been looking for those for years!"

4-Year-Old Soccer

[Sarah's been after me to post this for a couple of weeks now] [edit: apologies for the multiple posts, if more than one shows up in your feed reader... My posting tool was having technical issues...]

Simon's playing soccer this year. He's four. He's one of the youngest on his team, but nobody on the team is older than five. This makes the games interesting--at one point in the first game the entire swarm of players surrounding the ball had moved thirty yards out of bounds and was still gleefully kicking the ball back and forth--ignoring the shrill blasts of the whistles from both coaches.

Anyway... Simon had practices for two or three weeks prior to his first game, and of course in practice they took turns with the ball, learning to dribble and shoot. This became an issue when it came time to actually play, because suddenly there were no more turns--it was every (little) man for himself. Simon simply couldn't handle this, and spent the first half of the first game in tears, unable to understand why he wasn't getting his turn with the ball.

Part of the issue was that Simon and Samuel both play at the same time, so Sarah and I have to split up, with one of us watching Sam's game and one watching Simon's. That first game started with me sitting on the sidelines of Sam's field and Sarah with Simon--and unfortunately Simon doesn't respond as well to Sarah as he does to me. A short while into the game, then, we traded places, and I tried to explain to the sobbing Simon the concept of competition ("the red shirts will try to take the ball from you, and you try to take the ball from them") and teamwork ("all of the green shirts are helping you to get the ball to your goal, so if one of them has the ball you don't want to take it from them").

I thought that he finally had it, and he went back in to play. He seemed to be doing fairly well until his team kicked the ball out of bounds and the other team was getting set up to kick the ball back in to play.

At that point, I think that he decided that he hadn't had enough ball time, and that it was his "turn". He ran over to the ball, got behind it, and started dribbling it down the field--toward the other team's goal. He was three-quarters of the way down the field before his coach managed to catch up to him and convince him to stop, but he looked satisfied.

Finally he had gotten his turn with the ball.

Dust Bunnies

Simon was running around with the little duster, then swapped it for the big duster. Then he started running around and screaming, "Now I'm a big hoe(ho?)" over and over.

Problem Solving

Simon: "I want Sprite."

Mom: "No, not now. You already had some today. You may have milk or water."

Simon: (crying, throwing a fit, repeating over and over): "But I want Sprite."

Mom: (ignoring, starts playing a video game)

(Tantrum continues)

Dad: (sternly) "You cannot have Sprite, and that is it. Go to your room to cry."

Simon runs to his room screaming. Screams continue to be heard from down the hall for a while.

Screams stop.

Simon returns: "Mom, can I pretend that water is Sprite?"

Problem solved! :)

Tiny Pasta

[Simon, yelling from the pantry] "Can someone please get me tiny pasta?"

(He wanted uncooked angel-hair spaghetti. We all found it rather amusing. :)

Priorities

ME: Simon, I'm going to make-out with Turtle. Is that okay?

SIMON: No.

ME: Aww, but I really want to. Why not?

SIMON: [tossing a blue bead that he's pretending is a dice] Because I want you to watch me.

ME: Okay, but when you're done I can kiss her?

SIMON: Yeah.

[gets the "double points" T]

SIMON: I got it!

ME: Sweet, now I can kiss Turtle, right?

SIMON: *nods*

[leans over to passionately kiss Turtle (not for reals)]

ME: Simon, was that hot?

SIMON: Yes.

ME: Should we kiss some more?

SIMON: No.

ME: Why not?

SIMON: Because it's your turn! [offers me the "dice"]

Where's the deck?

I told 4-year-old Simon that I was going out on the deck at the condo to watch the lightening, and wondered if he wanted to come. He said yes and took my hand. As we walked, he asked "Where's the dick?" I thought 11-year-old Spencer would die laughing.