Why 4 year olds are awesome

Rose Woodhouse 43 Comments

Inspired by Patrick, I offer the following.

Out of the blue, my 4  year old son sits down at the table, turns to my husband, and says, “Daddy, come join me at the table and let’s talk about things that are fat.”

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

43 Comments

  2. Where did the conversation go after that? There are just so many possibilities.

    • I’m not sure all the most exciting possibilities were met. It was a list of animals (e.g., rhinoceroses) some of which were not actually fat (sharks, octopi, jellyfish), and a few other things (marshmallows, bacon).

      I was relieved he didn’t start naming relatives.

      • Octopi are totally fat. They just hide it well, what with their always wearing black suits and shirts with horizontal stripes. And don’t think it’s an accident they’re always wanting to stand next to the manatees and balugas when the office Christas party photos are taken.

        Watch out, octopi. I’ve got your number.

  3. My husband corrects me. The conversation went more like this (which is even more awesome than I remember):

    Son: Daddy? Can I have some milk?
    Husband: Yes.
    Son: Daddy? Why are you getting me milk?
    Husband: Because you asked for it.
    Son: Oh. But are you still angry at me?
    Husband: Yes.
    Son: But then why are you getting me some milk?
    Husband: I can get you milk even when I’m angry at you.
    Son: Oh. But do you still love me when you’re angry?
    Husband: Of course.
    Son: I’m always angry when you or mommy are angry at me. Daddy? You get some milk too. Sit next to me at the table and talk about things that are fat.
    Husband: Okay…Whale.
    Son: Whale!
    Husband: Walrus.
    Son: Walrus!
    Husband: Elephant.
    Son: Elephant!
    Husband: Cow.
    Son: Cow!
    Husband: Manatee.
    Son: Manatee! Okay. I think I’m ready for bed now…

    • OMG, how flippin adorable. How do you not just hug your children 24 hours a day?

      I keep saying I’m not going to have more kids, then I read this and think one more cant hurt, right?

      • Ooo, how many kids do you have?

        I blame my kids that I’m even thinking about a fourth. It’s because they are so continually awesome.

        • I have one little boy. He’s about 3 feet tall. I hug him until he won’t let me hug him anymore, every chance I get.

          • If my oldest lets me hug him for more than 2 seconds, I check to make sure he doesn’t have a fever. My middle kid is where I can get my snuggle fix. I’m very curious to see where the new guy in town will end up. All I know so far is that he’s crazy easy-going.

    • 1) That… kicks… ass. I am particularly privileged to know the husband and child in question, which makes this even more adorable.

      2) I find that when my son asks me to do anything that ends “…with me,” I am just about helpless to resist.

    • Now I wanna come live at your house…

      That was everything that is wonderful about having kids rolled up into one 3 minute dialogue.

      • >That was everything that is wonderful about having kids rolled up into one 3 minute dialogue.

        +1

    • That early part is the beginning of understanding nuance, particularly the idea of mixed emotions. What an amazing moment!

  5. If I’d been your husband, I might have run the other way, because your 4-yr-old is clearly well-read (from The Walrus and the Carpenter):

    ‘The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
    ‘To talk of many things:
    Of shoes — and ships — and sealing wax —
    Of cabbages — and kings —
    And why the sea is boiling hot —
    And whether pigs have wings.’

    ‘But wait a bit,’ the Oysters cried,
    ‘Before we have our chat;
    For some of us are out of breath,
    And all of us are fat!’
    ‘No hurry!’ said the Carpenter.
    They thanked him much for that.

    • Apropos of nothing, my father used to recite from “The time has come” through “and kings” every night when he put me to bed as his signal that the time had come to go to sleep.

      • Apropos of even less Pigs Have Wings is one of the very best Blandings Castle books.

  6. Can I just say to Russell that in addition to all of his consistently amazing writing, right up there in his list of League accomplishments was recruiting Rose?

  7. I wonder if age five is when they cease being awesome and begin to go evil. My son, five, said to me just the other day,”Dad, you need to work harder so you can make more money and buy me more transformers.” Talk about a fat sense of entitlement.

    • I will not inject politics into a fun conversation.
      I will not inject politics into a fun conversation.
      I will not inject politics into a fun conversation.
      I will not inject politics into a fun conversation.
      I will not inject politics into a fun conversation.

    • His temper tantrums quickly resolve into a grumpily-expressed wish for the reign of existential nothingness: no God, no universe, no world, no people, no mom or dad or him. Absolute nothingness. Maybe I should read him Sartre for a bedtime book.

    • I once told my daughter she could have more say in our household when she started contributing money. “I have my allowance,” she said.

      “No, dear, that’s money I brought into the household.”

      “Oh.”

    • My daughter, age about three, starts listing all the toys that she needs to have.

      I reply “You know, honey, you can’t have everything you want.”

      “But I want everything I want.”

  8. Things like this make me say I haven’t worked a day in 7 years…

Comments are closed.