Why 4 year olds are awesome, part II

Rose Woodhouse 18 Comments

Apparently, my 4 year old is reading this blog, since he took a cue from Russell’s Stupid Tuesday Question this week. I had a meeting recently, and wanted to look nice. So I was wearing dressier clothes and more make-up and jewelry than usual. My 4 year old said, “Mommy, you look so beautiful, you look like a fairy princess!” How could my heart not swell?

Then this morning, he crawls into my bed at an indecent hour, takes a look at me and says “You don’t look beautiful at all today. Not even a tiny bit.” My husband loyally (and dishonestly) interposed, “I think Mommy looks beautiful now!” My 4 year old responded, “No, she really doesn’t. [Turning to me] Are you going to do something different with your hair?”

Rose Woodhouse

Elizabeth Picciuto was born and reared on Long Island, and, as was the custom for the time and place, got a PhD in philosophy. She freelances, mainly about disability, but once in a while about yeti. Mother to three children, one of whom is disabled, two of whom have brown eyes, three of whom are reasonable cute, you do not want to get her started talking about gardening.

More Posts

18 Comments

  1. Something in your house is broken. Start searching immediately.

    • Heee! Well, apparently he either fixed it or hid it sufficiently by this morning.

  2. Your home sounds full of love amd super fun(ny).

    • I find it both! Except when it’s not…. 🙂

  3. Bless ’em, they’re so convinced of their vision of the world.

    • Patrick, I read your post on my phone the other day, so I didn’t comment, but this reminds me: your kid is wicked talented! Love it!

  4. I think the day the innocence dies is when you realize that sometimes Mommy really does just look like shite.

    • By which I mean no offense. I haven’t looked good even a single day since I was about 15, so perspective is in order.

      • No offense taken. You and he were right – I look like shite in the morning.

        • I usually need a cup of coffee before I’m even functional enough to thank the universe for not killing me in the night. Kids are either going to make me very happy or put me in a well-deserved early grave.

          I’m actually really excited to have some.

          • “I usually need a cup of coffee before I’m even functional enough to thank the universe for not killing me in the night.”
            Oh good, something to look forward to.

          • “I usually need a cup of coffee before I’m even functional enough to thank the universe for not killing me in the night.”

            That’s the line of the week, right there.

    • That is so sad, Ryan. I hope that my son will continue being innocent long after he decides I’m not beautiful (or not beautiful all the time – his choice).

  5. Awesome.

    This story reminded me of my own 15 year old, who was trying to talk to me the other night when I was trying to work. When it was clear he was just interrupting to interrupt, I told him I needed to get back to work. He said, “OK, but I just have one question first. Just one. Wouldn’t it be funny if we sold my brother to hobos so they could harvest his organs for the black market?” I ignored him and continued typing, so he pulled up a chair next to mine and started leaning into my personal space and repeating the question over and over again, never taking a break in the tempo, just a constant “Come on, admit it, wouldn’t it be funny if…” After about two minutes of me trying to ignore him and him not letting up I broke down and started to giggle.

    He stood up and frowned. “I can’t believe you would laugh at that. That’s sick.” And then he walked out of the room.

Comments are closed.