It's the tiger's fault I tell you

I took off from work early today. It was BigBrother's Dad day at school. BigBrother could barely contain his excitement. "I can't wait to show you all the work I do. We can do art - but only if you want to." He wouldn't stop talking about all the stuff he wanted to show me. I couldn't be more proud of him, and it was cool seeing him so excited about sharing with me.

Except...it wasn't tonight. Turns out it is NEXT Tuesday. So I took the kid to the mall and we looked at lizards and snakes and fish. We ate a cookie and talked. It was pretty cool having one on one time.

While we were out, DearWife was playing with LittleBrother (who is 3 and a half). They went into the bathroom with a flashlight and turned out the lights.

LittleBrother: "There is the door knob. There is the toilet. There is the towel."
*He notices some nail pops on the screen.
LittleBrother: "What are those fucking bumps on the wall."
DearWife (pauses): "LittleBrother, what did you say"
LittleBrother (smartly): "Uh, what are those little bumps on the wall."
DearWife: "No you said a bad word. Where did you hear it?"
--Note I was cringing when she got to this part of the story.
LittleBrother: "A tiger told me."

oh, ok, that makes sense then.

In other news, now that we have boy #3, I need a nickname for him. I was going to rename LittleBrother. He is very physical, fearless. When he hugs you he tries to squeeze the air out of your lungs. When he jumps off the stairs, he jumps from the 5th step. So I was going to nickname him Crash, but for obvious reasons (read below) I think that nickname would apply to me more than anyone in the family.

And for the record, I went with an Accord. Black.