B proudly showed me this trick on our walk to the grocery store last night.

Apparently ‘daddy’ helped him come up with this questionable stunt (insert side-eye to Mr here). I think my response (a variation on my usual theme of “if you’re going to do stupid boy things, don’t act surprised when you get hurt”) horrified the tourists gathered around The Thinker.

The tomato plants, and my ancient spider fern.

Image via nickjr.com

Because he is a highly suggestible five-year-old, B proclaimed his desire to plant something, particularly a tomato plant, and perhaps grow some carrots from seeds. (Or maybe an apple tree. You know, nothing major.)

I initially resisted, parroting the PBS disclaimer:

Curious George is a monkey, so he does things that we can’t do!

George may be a monkey, but my son is apparently a professional lobbyist. After some research about indoor gardening, I caved agreed to his demands request, and this weekend we bought plants, soil, and pots to start our garden.

Or maybe he is a monkey, after all.

The wrong kind of Boo. (Image via Wikipedia)

B came home from school last week begging us to buy a book he’d read in class. I found a used copy on Amazon for a few bucks, ordered it, and completely forgot about it – until today, when we got a mysterious package from Las Vegas. Inside was Who Said Boo. B could not wait to read it to me. I was gobsmacked – I knew he could read, but seeing him in action was a revelation. (Note: He’s very quiet, and I took this video on my iPhone, so you can barely hear him.)