Zachary has, lately, requested private space when brushing his teeth. He is very adamant. He can do it on his own, thank you very much. He's all full of being almost four, and stretching on his tiptoes, and stretching out, and being nimble and competent in funny ways. I watch him reach out to do things with one hand while doing something else with his brain and remember when, even using ALL of his brain power and focus he really could barely pick out which limb was doing what. But not now. Now he is serious business.
So he strolled out of the bathroom tonight after his ablutions and came up to stand next to me. "Mommy. It will not be obvious to you where my toothbrush is. But to me, it will be."
Oooooookay.
When I later went into the bathroom I had a bit of a look round.
He has gotten much trickier with age. It is tucked up on the rail behind our towels, on the opposite wall from the sink (where the rest of the toothbrushes are). He was pleased that all our toothbrushes were in the same place for a while... a novelty, now that we're in one bathroom. But now? Now his toothbrush has struck out on its own.
Independence is a heady drug.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
LOL. That's awesome! 4 going on 30, is it?
Post a Comment