Every year the holidays are more fun for me as Punkin becomes more aware of the festivities. This year he is very interested in the Christmas tree. He wanted so badly to help me string lights. Unfortunately, four year olds are not very good at UNtangling things; God gave them other talents, like making me laugh.
And he did make me laugh while we hung up the ornaments. Punkin hates spiky textures, but he LOVES that tree. You get the idea, right? I want to help hang these ornaments, but I have to do it without actually touching any of the needles. It was painstakingly funny to watch. His favorite ornament, besides the ones from school with his picture on them, was the Buzz and Woody one from my Aunt. I'm surprised he let me keep it on the tree, actually.
Every morning when he walks into the living room he says, "Hey, what is going on here da tree?" And then I prompt him to say, "Turn on the lights." And when it's time to go to school I unplug the lights and he says, "Bye-bye Christmas tree. See you later!"
For some reason he has always loved Christmas movies, and seems to take a special liking to them just as the weather turns chilly. Two years ago he was stuck on a collection of cartoons from the 50's (?). It was pretty awful. Last year he discovered The Polar Express and Mickeys Once Upon a Christmas; at least he alternated. And in 2009? He insists on watching one particular cartoon from Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas. Not surprisingly, given his recent obsession with Duck Tales, it is the cartoon with Scrooge, Donald, and Huey, Dewey, and Luey.
Yesterday was a snow day. We watched "boys," as he calls it, at least 32 times. Now normally when I tell him to pick out a different movie because we're all done with the one he's "stuck" on, he whines for a minute and then chooses a new movie.
Oh no. Oh no. This is him. Finger on his chin, scanning the movies, "Hmmm. Hmmmm. Dis a one," pointing to Mickey.
"No, not a choice. All done Mickey."
"NOT A CHOICE!!!!"
"Pick a different one."
"Diffent one. Hmm. Hmm. Dis one (pointing to Polar Express). No. DIS ONE." He hands me Mickey.
"Not a choice. No more boys."
"Dis one?" He hands me Mickey.
"No," I put it up on the tv.
Tears. Snot. Tables and chairs flipped. Legos flying. "NOT A CHOICE!"
I picked him up, put him in his bed with his blanket, put in Toy Story, and waited.
Five minutes later, "Mom? I all done I get up?"
"Yes, you may get up." We watched it once, maybe only half of it, and went back to the boys.