If you are looking for Wordless Wednesday, it is down there V . Just scroll down. If you are in shock that I am doing a real post, just breathe deeply. It will pass. There seems to be Meme fever going around these days. I am not sure that it has passed, but I figured that I would sneak in a real one while I had the chance.
My favorite thing about Super Z is his imagination. He is a different super hero or creature everyday of the week. Last night he was Sponge Bob and I was Mr. Crab. This had its benefits. Sponge Bob apparently likes to do what Mr. Crab tells him, even eat his dinner!! All I had to say was, "Sponge Bob, you better eat those crabby patties." (Which he told me to say, because he is a bossy pants just like I... I mean Randy probably was when he was a kid.) And wham, the food was eaten, just like that. I wish that Super Z and I had the same relationship as Sponge Bob and Mr. Crab.
Some days he is a rock, and he will just lie there, or a cat who prowls the room meowing and wanting to eat his food straight out of a bowl. Super hero days are usually loud and chaotic, as he will zoom back and forth in reckless abandon knocking everything in his path flying ( Oh! Princess H!).
There are only those precious moments when he is actually Super Z. On those days, he is a a 4 year old boy who is the size of a typical 3 year old, who talks more than any person on the planet. He is a boy who can ride his bike without training wheels and make it all the way down the driveway on a real skateboard ( be still my worried heart). He is a drama queen, who is equally comfortable storing spiders in his pocket and crying for an hour because a moth touched his arm. He is the protector of his sister, the worshipper of his older brother, and the King of his mama's heart.
On the days that he is Super Z, he is still in active imagination mode. On those days, he is constantly accompanied by Little Z. Little Z has lived with us for two years now. He has the same name as Super Z , only with Little in front of it. He is small enough to fit in Z's pocket, and yet strong enough to cause massive amounts of damage. He lives on our porch with his parents, Little Mom and Little Dad. I think that Little Z may have a Little H, but I am not sure.
Little Z is the creator of much strife. Since Super Z was two years old, Little Z has been telling him when not to eat, when to hide food under his bed, when to not play with his sister, and when to just be an all around terror. The bad part is that Super Z listens to Little Z the same way that Sponge Bob listens to Mr. Crab. Super Z never stops to think about the consequences when Little Z tells him to do or not do something. Why should he? I mean all he has to do is blame Little Z, right? I can't tell you how much trouble that blasted Little Z has gotten my baby in. But, he showing no sign of moving on. I love the imagination, but I could do without the imaginary friend.
Maybe if he was a little better behaved it would be a different story. I don't mind his family living on the porch. I have had no trouble out of Little Mom or Little Dad. Little Dad hasn't started leaving wet towels all over the porch yet. I haven't even heard Little H crying in the middle of the night ( she may have been drowned out by Big H.) I just wish they would get that Little Z under control, for surely it can't be my baby causing all the trouble. Surely not.