A couple days ago I had a cold. An average, everyday cold - sneezing, coughing, sore throat, chills. The kind of cold that sends people to the EMERGENCY room in droves for unnecessary antibiotics.
Ahem.
Anyway, there I was, all achy and drippy and awful. Noah was at the peak of health and energy on this particular day. He had found a bag of potato chips and spilled them all over the kitchen floor. Then he put on one of Katie's shoes (just one!) and proceeded to dance all over them.
Noah's dance is quite unique. He dances in a circle and claps. It's really more of a gallop, like a pony that is missing a leg but still insists on trotting about.
He also had a soggy green tea bag clutched in his little hand. His sharp little eagle eyes spotted a string hanging out of my steaming mug of tea on the counter. The only logical thing to do in that situation is to incorporate it into one's dance.
There he was, laughing and dancing his lopsided pony dance on a huge pile of chips. He was clapping enthusiastically - soggy tea bag being flung all over. Oh, and wearing one big sparkly clog.
At the noise I trudged into the kitchen. Hair unwashed and probably heinous looking, body hurts, pj pants shuffling in on slippers. I looked up and "What the...? I don't even...why....?"
Obviously I didn't get a video then, as that wasn't even a thought in my stuffy little head. But we did get a video of it later, just because it's so darn cute and we want to remember this, in case Noah ever puts that little gimpy pony out of his misery. Without further ado, here is a video of Noah dancing:
It goes without saying that Toby Mac is playing in our home. Also disregard my weird squeaky voice. It sounds the same on videos, answering machines, cell phone messages. I'm beginning to think that's how my voice actually sounds.
Now imagine the dance on a pile of chips with a soggy tea bag in one hand. And no music. And one big blue sparkly clog.
Noah also has a very particular idiosyncrasy of rubbing anything remotely liquid in his hair. Every since he was an infant, he has signaled sleep by rubbing the top of his head and pulling gently on his hair. Nowadays he still does that but with the added bonus of actually putting things in his hand before he rubs his head. Every time we eat soup or spaghetti or yogurt it ends up artistically slopped through his hair.
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| Strawberry yogurt and kiwi seeds, anyone? |
With that in mind, let me tell you about a recent incident. Those of you who are friends of mine on a certain social site may recall Noah's haircut a few months ago. Necessary due to the fact that he had slathered almost a whole container of Vaseline on his head, his clothes and the couch. I fine-toothed combed his hair, added cornstarch and held him over the tub, rubbing clarifying shampoo into his long tresses. Ended up lopping off most of it because petroleum is tough stuff my friends.
A couple days ago he got a hold of it again - just a handful onto the top of his head. This time I just shrugged. It will come out eventually and in the meantime, his hair will look styled. Which can only be good for me. It shows I'm trendy and stuff.
You may be wondering why I still left the Vaseline on his changing table after the first incident.
As my husband's youth pastor Dean used to say "One more time for the slow learners."
Yup.
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