Dancing Nekkid

Ok, so its time to move on to more personal matters...as in my lil heathens. I'm going to start with 'Taz'. You'll hear about him a lot. Taz is 3 years old, and, dare I say, gorgeous. Dirty blonde hair, stunning blue eyes, and eyelashes that not only are stupidly long and thick, but freaking curl. And before anyone asks, no, neither of my daughters are that blessed. God has a cruel sense of ha ha.

ANYWAYS...about Tazzie boy.

The child is a never ending whirling activity centre. And, because I must have done something really bad in my past life, like club baskets of newborn puppies, he's as smart as he is busy.

Trust me, from a mother's perspective, that's a bad baaaaaad combo. From a homeschooling mother's perspective, that's enough to cause me to daydream of kindergarten, and/or strong meds. For me, not him. Essentially, if I don't keep this child busy when concious, he'll find something to do. And, being bright, its nothing within the boringly normal antics of the average 3 year old. Nope, course not.

For starters, the lil heathen uses the puter better than Wolf. Seriously. And has taught himself to READ well enough to know which is his list of favourites, and which site is which. (I did mention that he's 3, right? Turned 3 in Feb?)

Ok, so that's part of the background.

The other part is...Taz likes being nekkid. I mean...he LIKES being nekkid. Child has no modesty, no shame, no thermostat, cause he's just as happy being nekkid in Dec as in June. Outside. Although, he does come in faster in Dec.

So, the other week, he was in the wading pool, and came in. I stripped off his wet togs, and went to get him some dry clothes from the basement. (Yes, our laundry room is down there. The 1 armed thing means there's a perfectly good excuse to live out of laundry baskets now.) As I was coming back up the stairs, I heard, "I am NEKKID! I'm NEKKID NEKKID NEKKID, singing the NEKKID SOOOOOOONG!" over and over.

I discover Taz, out on the back steps, nekkid, shaking his hips and butt all over the top step, bellowing the 'Nekkid Song' at top volume.

And of course my neighbour was in her yard.

Then there was the other night. Taz was once again in his natural state, standing in front of the fan, yelling the 'Nekkid Song' into it. (He had just discovered how weird your voice sounds when you yell into the fan). I watched him dance like he was channelling Elvis, and then looked at Wolf. See, I don't know about all the other SAHM out there, but my husband doesn't always seem to quite believe the things that happen in my day. While he laughed about Taz dancing for the neighbours, there was a sense that I must have dramatized things a bit. Watching his son do some pretzel hips, he commented, "Well...at least we know how he'll pay for college."