Wednesday, March 2, 2011

You Can Call Me Flower, If You Want To

That post title is a quote from Bambi, a movie I'm pretty sure we should never let Cubby see lest he get all traumatized about the fact that Bambi or one of his relatives is hanging in our shed.


Speaking of Cubby and flowers, yesterday Cubby got to see his very first flowers growing right in the ground. Well, the first in his memory. We have many photos to prove that he saw lots of flowers last spring, of course, but his long-term memory isn't quite up to speed yet, so as far as he's concerned, those snowdrops I pointed out yesterday were the Very First Flowers Ever.

He smiled at them. And then he tried to pull them up and put them in his mouth. So I guess he liked them. Of course, he does the same thing with rocks. Of which there are millions in our rock driveway, which makes excursions outside a more or less constant stream of admonishments along the lines of, "We don't eat rocks, Cubby."

Such is the profound wisdom of a parent.


Anonymous said...

Cubby has to have the basics taught to him before you can teach him about Pi, the universe or probate law,yes? Beth

tu mere said...

Great news that y'all were able to get out and explore. I'm assuming that the landscape looks a bit different from the last picture, the one with you hanging on to Cubby's hood so that he wouldn't fall face first into the snow. As for the rocks in the mouth, your sister's dog does the same thing when he comes to visit, only there's no concern with the whole swallowing issue. The rocks he chooses are obviously bigger and, well, he's a dog.

Anonymous said...

Actually the basics are more important to him than the rest. You have a big responsibility there. Even if it sounds trivial. It helps make him the man he is going to become.
Sorry , I guess I really heavied up your light post.

Mayberry Magpie said...

My parental wisdom this morning consisted of me yelling loudly "Boy, the LOVE just flows through this household!" in a sarcastic tone after both my teenagers were aghast at the prospect of giving me a good-luck hug before their tennis tournament. They claimed it was because I was sweaty from my run, but I KNOW BETTER. It's clear THEY HATE ME.

It was so much easier when I was just keeping rocks out of their mouths.