My Typical (Genius) Four Year Old

I'm sure every parent is filled with pride when speaking of his or her child. And while gushing without end is a mindless inconsideration in which some people can't help but engage, I'll do my best to keep my ramblin' to a tolerable level. (Alternately, you are visiting my blog, so if I am a-ramblin'-ramblin', feel free to log-off. I wouldn't want friends and family regretting the loss of precious minutes in their lives!) :-)

So today, as Tom is moving some furniture downstairs and organizing our "moving truck staging area," while carrying a bookshelf, he steps in a wet spot on the carpet. Watching his balance and aim with the heavy piece of furniture, he absently asks Marcello, "You alright, son?" to which Marcello responds, "Uh, yes." We know four year olds spill things, so Tom makes a mental note to clean up whatever little wet mess has been left on the floor. He returns to what is later determined to be the scene of the crime, to find out what, exactly, is the nature of the little wet mess:
Marcello stands over a little plastic wagon (usually the container for his big Lego-type blocks) with a large plastic cooking spoon, stirring. He has poured the better part of an entire gallon of milk into the wagon (capacity roughly two gallons), along with the remainder of a package of shredded cheese and some yogurt, and informs his daddy that he has made some soup. The wagon bucket has a little latch on the bottom (so a child with his BLOCKS can tip the bucket back to dump his load), so there is a little hole right at the bottom of the bucket. Through which leaks the milk. Into a little wet mess on the floor. Positioned strategically for daddy to step in. Ahh, youth.

Last week, Marcello informed Tom and I that he is "allergic to chicken noodle soup." As my son is not allergic to anything so that word isn't used in my home often, my best estimate is that he learned the word "allergic" from a SpongeBob SquarePants episode. My four year old, the genius.

Speaking of sponges, did you know that children are sponges when it comes to hearing, learning and repeating everything!? Tom and I both had a time in our lives when we watched Beavis and Butthead. Three months ago, Tom (yes, my love, I unequivocally blame you for this) began referring to Marcello's BUNGHOLE. We never explained what a bunghole is, never discussed the issue in detail. Never used "bunghole," "butt" or "butthole" in the same sentence. However, Marcello has correctly deduced what a bunghole is. We'll ask him simple, serious questions like "Where is your train?" or "Have you seen daddy's other shoe?" and Marcello now replies, "It's in my Bunghole!" And then he laughs - Oh, he knows it's funny. He even has a Bunghole Dance. He bends over, touches his toes, and wiggles his butt. It's a little disturbing when he does it naked.

Genius. . . Typical. . . An Absolute Doll!
How about:
When he just comes up to his mommy, and says, "I love you, Mommy" without provocation?
or,
when he kisses my forehead when he knows I have a headache?
or,
when he says "Sorry, Daddy, for making soup on the floor?"

My precious boy.