It's been way too long...
So, catching up on Lynxcub stories. In reverse chronological order (note that these are from various points over the past couple of months):
So, tonight I attempted to explain the US election to the Lynxcub, in kid-comprehensible terms (he was most especially concerned about the Sesame Street issue). And I must have succeeded in getting across the basics, because immediately afterward we had the following exchange:
A: When I go to the United States, I'm going to dress up as Mitt Romney.
Me: (confused) You are? Why?
A: So I can get close to him! And gather ALL the bad people together.
Me: What for?
A: So I can SHOOT them!
Me: (laughs until tea comes out my nose and makes a mental note to bring bail money.)
The Cub to another kid at the park: "That's my part-time mom. I have TWO moms! And that means I'm specially lucky, because sometimes I have bad days and need to have a break from home, but I still have a mom no matter where I am!"
Foam swords: always a hit at the playground (no pun intended). These days the Lynxcub is opting for Florentine style...
At Dollarama with the Lynxcub the other day, acquiring costume bits. Suddenly he bolts down the aisle with a look of glee on his face, and reaches for something tucked away on a low shelf. I run to catch up, and behold - it is... A Thing That Should Not Exist. Specifically, a bright pink toilet plunger, with a loud floral pattern on the handle.
I stare at it in mute disbelief, mentally making a SAN check a la Call of Cthulhu, while the Lynxcub says "Look, muime! I want THIS to be the suction cup arm for my costume!"
I finally manage to get some words out: "You... want a pink flowered suction cup arm for your Dalek costume...?"
"Yes! Because I'm going to be a CUTE Dalek!"
I was eventually able to ascertain that he does not, in fact, want to be an entirely pink Dalek, for which I am quite thankful. He is OK with the costume being mostly in your standard Dalek colours. But he wants there to be "a few bits of pink on it here and there." Including the suction cup arm.
The Lynxcub seems to be decidedly over his dislike of music. Earlier today he decided to put on a show for his stuffed animals, which turned out to involve him dancing around like a maniac on the bed. So I asked (expecting a no, but hope springs eternal and all that) if he'd like some bouncy music to dance to. And without hesitation, he shouted "YES!"
So I put on Delhi 2 Dublin's Planet Electric, and he loved it! He kept asking me turn it up, and at one point when I had stepped away for a minute, he cranked the volume even higher himself. He invited me to be part of his "show", and we spent pretty much the whole album dancing and playing with my contact juggling balls.
When the album ended, he complained bitterly, so I started scrolling through looking for another album that he might like. "Play ALL the albums!" he demanded impatiently. "ALL OF THEM!"
"Honey, not all my albums are good to dance to."
"THAT doesn't matter," he declared. "I can even dance to lullabies!"
"Some of my albums are... kind of noisy," I said, remembering that he'd previously said that the reason he no longer liked music was that it was too noisy.
"I LIKE noisy!" he insisted.
So I decided, why not put that to the test, and hit play on an album that happened to be right near where I was in the list - by a Finnish metal band. And... Back to manic dancing! "Do you like this music?" I asked, as he capered about to the sound of heavy distorted guitars and operatic vocals.
"YES!" he shrieked happily.
"This band is called Nightwish," I said. "Just in case you ever feel like listening to them again."
"*I* knew that!" he said dismissively. "Daddy listens to them all the time while he watches adult movies!"
At which point I tried very hard to keep from collapsing in a fit if laughter, because I am pretty sure he just meant movies meant for adults rather than kids, but - well, I just didn't want to have to explain to him what it sounded like. Or the visual it conjured in my mind.
I'm just glad he likes music again!
On telling him that he shouldn't expect too much of me right now, due to my being sick:
"That's OK! When we get to your house, I'll run a nice warm bath for you, and put some sea salt in it, so you can get all warm, and I'll get you some bath toys and some medicine... And then I'll save up all my money and buy you 100 boxes of Kleenex! For your runny nose!"
Now, in point of fact, what he actually wanted to do once we got to my house was watch a bunch of cute baby animal videos on YouTube, but I suppose it's the thought that counts...