It's true. And he knows it. He called me on Tuesday from Tim's cell phone after he got his hair cut and said "Mom, I look good." When I came home he was all Mr. Hotstuff not talking to me until I acknowledged his good-lookingness. Then he was all "yeah, can't help it." And I was like all "where did this kid come from?"
So Isaac and I talked for quite a while on the cell phone that Tuesday night. I was frantically walking around a bookstore trying to find a book for Eva with both girls in tow and get home by bedtime. The orginal reason he called was to ask me what the state dinosaur was. I had no idea what he was talking about. This frustrated him greatly but fortunately for both of us he didn't come right out and call me stupid. He did ask if I was hot. I thought I misheard him. The conversation went something like this:
"Are you hot mom?"
"Is your father putting you up to this?"
"Mom, are you hot?"
"No, I'm not hot."
"MOM, ARE YOU HOT?"
"YES I'M HOT!!!" (Yes, I'm standing inthe middle of the bookstore.)
"Ok, then maybe you should come home now."
Somewhere between the planets of Mars and Neptune that conversation makes perfect sense.
Today he had to look good for his school picture. Ironically at 7:10 this morning he didn't look so good. He looked like he'd pulled an all-nighter. Perhaps he stayed up late thinking about Match Box cars, things that could be turned into swords and T-Rexs. By 8:00 he looked good. We'd done the necessary 5 year old lookin' good routine: wipe off the cinnamon sugar from cheeks, brush some teeth, flatten some Alfalfa sprouts on the top of his head with a wet brush. Good to go. Loooookin' Goooood.