Who ARE you?

We are currently in Portland, hanging out with the Westovers (Bestovers, if you're talking to Ted). We've missed their company horribly since they left last November, so our summer vacation time has included shoving them back into our lives. If you don't know them, that's fine. You'll get a glimpse soon enough.

You can always tell a little bit about a child's parents from the children themselves, so it was a shock to me when George (their 6-yr old) made a couple of comments that were quite out of the ordinary, not only for his personality, but for John's (his dad) as well.

The first happened at the "Omsome" OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry). We had a good half day of playing with all the dinosaurs and those brain teaser puzzles that they put in there just for adults, so when it was time to leave, Christy made us all go potty, including myself. I waited for George to finish, and walked into the bathroom as he was drying his hands. I asked him if everything came out okay, which he answered in the affirmative. He paused, then said "Make sure you don't poop out the baby." I almost laughed heartily until I realized he was serious, so I responded just as seriously, "I'll try not to." He thought about that for a few seconds and asked, "What happens if you do?" I didn't have a ready answer, but without going into too much anatomy that his parents aren't ready for, I said, "It's up there pretty tightly. It's not going anywhere." He seemed satisfied at that, so he left the bathroom while I got a good laugh.




Now, if you know George, you know he's a very tactile child. Anything that has an aesthetic surface, he explores it with his hands, and that includes EG's legs in fishnets, my upper thighs in pantyhose, and anyone dressed in velvet. Many a prediction has been made about the Future George in reference to this character trait, none of which I'll "touch" on here. He also has a fascination with breasts, since he's not used to seeing any in his own house. My first realization with this was when he was sitting on my lap in a restaurant. He looked down my shirt, turned to Christy, and said, "Mom, why does she have a bum on her front?" Tact is not his strong point.

The move to Oregon must have changed this boy, for he is no longer his father's son. I let him climb on my back when we visited Multnomah Falls and when his head got high enough to peer over my shoulder, I was shocked to hear him say, "I don't want to see your bosom" as he slid down my back again.



The MOST tactless thing to come out of this boy's mouth (so far) happened when we were trying to pack 4 adults and 3 children with car seats into the minivan. The car seats had to be shuffled around, but I offered to sit in the back between two of them to ease some of the difficulty, mentioning sarcastically "because I am looking REEEAAAAALLLLLLL SKINNY these days". Quite matter-of-factly, George turned around and said, "No you're not. Look at your tummy."

I'd like to use the excuse that I have "a baby in there", but I'm only barely starting to pooch out, so who am I kidding? Thanks, dude, for helping me see myself in a clearer light. 'Preciate ya.