It’s possible in the past that most of my blog posts have focused on either the joyful combination of two boys in one house or the funny things my older son does and says. This is because Ryan, age five, has been talking since approximately the day of his birth, and therefore has had five years to say funny things. Also to say naughty things, snotty things, grumpy things, and REALLY annoying things, but that’s beside the point.
However, at some point in the last year or so, my younger boy, Sam, became human, by which I mean that instead of simply screaming like a maniac whenever something happens that he doesn’t like (kid has a big brother, this happens kind of a lot), he actually knows and uses words as he is screaming like a maniac. He talks other times too. And he says very funny things. So this blog entry is dedicated to my young son Samuel John, AKA Stinky.
The first thing you should know about Stinky is that he doesn’t actually live on this planet. There is some weird alternate-universe thing going on in his brain (my husband is a sci-fi nerd and could probably explain this better). Sam’s reality and the real world intersect only occasionally, and unfortunately when they do intersect it is often because his head has intersected with a wall that apparently just jumped out in front of him. Sam is a pure, unadulterated space cadet. Let’s just say this. If he were the hero of a TV show it would not be the kind of show that requires its heroes to save the world in less than ten seconds. Give him a few hours and he might have a chance, if you can convince him to come back down to earth for that time.
I have always had the habit of nicknaming my kids; it started in uterus. Ryan was Peanut. Sam was Kumquat. Don’t ask why, these things just happen. I call my kids all kinds of things, like Pickles and Sweet Peas and Buddy. But I especially call them Stinky and Bubs. I do this so that when they become famous for something they automatically have a name for their show/restaurant/production company/etc. “Stinky and Bubs” just rolls off the tongue, don’t you think?
Sam does not, generally speaking, stink anymore than your average 3-year-old boy with a penchant for falling into, onto, and under things. The nickname Stinky applies more to his personality than to his aroma, although that can be quite strong. Honestly, Sam is a stinker. He’s ornery. But he’s also a good kid, if I do say so myself, and he’s cute as can be, which gets me into trouble I think.
One more thing about Sam. He thinks he’s a cat.
Well, not exactly. Sometimes he thinks he’s other animals, and he has recently branched out into vehicles. Most mornings I go into the boys’ room and I am greeted with a “My am a ______ today, Mommy!” Fill in the blank with whatever you choose, probably he’s been it at some point or another.
It all started with the cat, though. I think Sam was a cat for about two weeks straight. We took to calling him “Stinky Kitty,” and I was constantly being reminded of Phoebe singing “Smelly Cat” on Friends. He would walk or crawl around the house meowing. He would meow at the table and in bed. One time I saw him in a gym full of other kids, sitting on a tricycle, rocking it back and forth and saying “meow meow meow.”
These are the moments a mother lives for.
I guess Sam got bored with being Stinky Kitty, so eventually he branched out. He would be a stinky puppy or a stinky chicken (I swear I am not making this up) or even a STINKY BEAR ROWWWWR. Then one day I walked into his bedroom and was informed “Mommy, today my am a train with coaches.” I don’t know if anyone has compiled a complete list of all the things Sam has been over the last several months. If anyone were to do that the list would also include dinosaurs, birds, and a boat.
But I think the cutest was last weekend. Our family walked in the JDRF fundraising walk in Des Moines, on the team of a girl I used to work with. Our team’s name is Amber’s Awesome Angels. I had Sam in the bathroom and asked him if he was an animal that day. He thought for a minute. I said “Are you a stinky dinosaur today?” Another minute of Sammy-thought.
“No, Mommy, today my am a Stinky Angel.”
That would be pretty much every day, munchkin.