January 7th, 2004


(no subject)

This morning, when Jet woke up at 6, I went upstairs, in the dark, to cuddle with him for a bit. He decided he was awake and didn't want to go back to sleep, so he played with his PlaySkool aquarium for a while, a musicbox cow (pull it's leg and it plays "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"), and fiddled with a music box whose batteries had run out. I probably fell asleep while he was doing that.

Next thing I know, he's standing next to me, bent down, and tapping gently on my head. When he sees I'm awake he asks, "Momma tired?"

"Uhm... yeah. Momma's tired."

"Okay. You sweep. I go downstairs." (Jet still can't say l's, yet)


Next thing I know, he has the little, clear box of all the screwdriver heads and a handle along with an assortment of AA's, AAA's, and 9-volt batteries in his pajamas pocket and he's settling down to unscrew the battery lid to the dead music box. Oh, god, a child of engineers... that screwed down battery door is supposed to keep kids OUT of the battery compartment, and here he is, two-years-old and taking it as a matter-of-fact that that's just what you do to get something to work. Of course, he had to get me to figure out which batteries the thing took... but still...