Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Girls, Girls, Girls...

We are embarking on new territory here in the Timpone house, girls that like our boys or our boys liking girls. Remember our three love magnets are 6, 4, and 1 and the six year old, Tristan (the one with autism) basically talks non-stop about Star Wars. I mean he really has a Star Wars conversation going whether or not anyone is listening.

So to think we are already worried about girls strikes me as early. While picking-up Dylan at preschool last week , he decided to clean-out his cubby (weeks of drawings and notices can accumulate before we bring it all home to be recycled, ugh, I wish they just had recycling next to the cubbies) and he found a "love note". The love note stated that the unnamed four year old loved his cute face and his eyes and she would like to play sometime. She signed her name and added her phone number. Poor girl, what she doesn't know because she is an only child, is that we, the Timpones, have a difficult time arranging play-dates. We just get going on our weekly schedule then the weekend comes and no one wants more kids running around (I also hate talking on the phone these days, I have so much to do, no time for chatting with people I don't know). We will try — no guarantees though.

Then on Friday I climb out of the shower and grab my towel to have Tristan run into the bathroom and get in my face and says,

"Mommy does my breath smell?"

Not knowing if he had brushed his teeth I said,


So, Tristan brushed them again, followed by trying to put his head under the bathroom sink faucet. While stuffing his slightly larger head under the faucet, he turns and says,

"My hair is sticking-up and I need to look handsome for Rebecca's birthday party."

Since the faucet method wasn't working I suggested some spray conditioner which Tristan used liberally and he smelled like grapes all day. What am I going to do with my boys in ten years?

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