A few weeks ago I picked Vegas up from school and asked his teacher how his day went.
"Oh it was fine. He had a little issue with defiance during circle time. He's definitely figured out he's three!"
Oh he's three alright. Every morning we wake up and after we get dressed, he comes down and makes breakfast for the whole family. He can use the Keurig and make coffee, pushes the buttons on the microwave for my breakfast sandwich, and makes sure the baby gets his toast and bananas. He smiles at Cheeseball and says "goo mo Baybee! (good morning Baby!) and his most used phrase is "Bank you!" His favorite thing to do is smush his little body between Hubs and I as we're kissing hello or goodbye and steal a bunch of group hugs and kisses. His second favorite thing to do is to wrestle-hug Little Man until he's shoved off after a few minutes. It's so adorable it never fails to make me smile. He's got impeccable manners (thanks partly to "You're Welcome" from Moana, but I'll take full credit in public) and cleans up messes like a champ. He loves to giggle, dance, mimic, and cuddle and he's a general all around sweetheart. Combined with his love of delicious food and big belly laughes, I have pre-sorted him into the Hufflepuff house for sure. We'll have to see when his Hogwarts letter comes in a few years.
Well.
Unless I forget to let him push down the lever for the toaster. Or I butter his toast for him. Or convince him he needs to wear a shirt to go to school. And so on, and so on. Then he flips to Slytherin so fast your head spins. He has a stubborn streak a mile wide, not unlike his momma, and he has been known to look at me with a gleam in his eye as he takes a toy from Cheeseball and holds it above his head while the baby screams. He can fake cry and he also can loudly scream "NO I DO IT!!!" We can have nights where time out lasts off and on for hours, the minute he gets out he winds up again for another crazy tantrum or pushing his brothers around. Sometimes when I pick him up from school, he hides on the playground until his teachers and I can corral him, and then he sulks the entire way to the car and does the dead man's drop until I'm sweating, frustrated, dragging him in one arm and Cheeseball on my hip in the gentlest way you can drag an angry toddler. Insert eye roll here.
He's my Slytherpuff. My kid with a huge heart and even bigger personality. Maybe he's a typical three year old, but I have a feeling he's it's going to be a wild adventure with this kiddo... and I can't wait.
Most of the time.
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