Tuesday night at the doctor’s office, we were treated to these bon mots from 3B. And, by “we” I mean Mama, myself and the doctor and nurse.
- To the doctor as she entered the room: I’m working in here. I’m the doctor.
- To anyone who looked like a patient: I’m stretching out the pad for you.
- About anything in the room that looked like a fun toy (read: everything in the room): I’m the doctor, so I need to use this.
- To the doctor as she re-entered the room: I need to be in this room.
Following the visit to the doctor, Mama was hungry, so we walked next door to a pizza place, where they had tasty looking cakes right at two-year-old eye level in a refrigerator with a glass door. 3B declared, “I want these cakes” several times. Each time we answered with, “You can’t have those cakes now.”
Finally, he said, “I am going to steal these cakes.”
The next day, when I picked 3B up at Mrs. K’s, her son told me that 3B announced, “I’m going to prison.”
Taken together, these statements might lead one to assume that we don’t expose 3B to the most positive influences, or that he’s psychic and we’re in for a hell of a ride.
The reality is that we have no idea where the stealing bit comes from and the prison statement is a declaration that he’s going to play a concert like his hero Johnny Cash.
Brother #2 has already put in his vote for 3B to be a rock star rather than a doctor since Brother #2 wants backstage passes–and really, who wants backstage passes to an operating room? Let’s just hope we don’t need prison visitor passes to see our little Jean Valjean.