Two weeks ago Mama and I were each feeling like a weight had been lifted from our backs as the switch finally flipped and 3B was fully potty trained in a few days. Sure, a few days after three years of work that probably took six years off our lives.
And then the next day, as I ran into our local bike shop to pick up a new tire, 3B, who was sitting in the car with Mama and Jewel, looking out his window at the florist, said, “Boo. That ballon says, ‘Boo.'”
Mama looked over at the florist’s display and asked, “What do the other balloons say?”
“Boo. Happy birthday…” and the third one escapes me now, but he read it too.
The next day, Mama was playing a card game with 3B and wrote the colors of the cards on a sheet of paper without telling him what she was doing. Then, while they were playing, she would point to one of the words and ask, “Can you find all of these cards?”
Without a pause, 3B would say, “OK, all the blue [or green, red, purple] cards.”
Yes, just like everything else he’s mastered from clapping to crapping, 3B has learned to read on his own in private. And like with the rest of his skills, he can’t be bothered to apply the skill until he’s good and damned well ready, thank you very much.
Now, if only he could silently master sleeping past 6 a.m.
I’m working to make cancer history. Will you help me?