The Carrot Family Moves

I ran across a couple quaggy carrots tonight while cooking and tossed them in the Little Man's bath (he was covered in mud from playing in puddles with a buddy).  He was thrilled.  Anything from nature being cream of the crop for him.  An hour later he was still knee deep in carrot scenarios; they were moving from their bread bag house under the trunk to BB's treehouse in the other room.  Above, their furniture, blocks and motorcycle aboard the moving truck.

This picture highlights a new trend.  One I'm leery to vocalize lest it leave.  The child has been playing independently, on a regular basis, for the last month.  Seriously.  While I make breakfast or dinner (lunch is still squarely my, erm, BB's domain) the kid has been settling onto the floor by himself. Whisper, whisper, whisper, followed by some high pitched, unintelligible mutterings (his Mama or baby voices), and then whisper, whisper, whisper again.  Then things fly around and he runs about and then settles back into a crouch to whisper and mutter again.  Its really kinda cute.

He's also busting out of his social shell too.  Our dear friend noticed it this weekend when P flew down the sidewalk and into his arms.  No long warming period.  Instant interaction.

And he's chatting up anyone who passes by our brownstone, too.  Asking people their names, asking to pet their dog, telling the lady on the train platform that he likes her necklace.  He's always adored adults, but primarily prattled to ones he saw on at least a semi-regular basis (like our landlord.  Lord, the child would trap this man to talk to him.)  Now he seems more than happy to chat with anyone over 4 feet tall, anytime, anywhere.

Like at Montauk, last week.  We were schlepping off the beach, past some rental condos, scooters over our shoulders.  The balcony of one featured a keg and some guys enjoying said keg.  A jovial junior asked us if our transportation was electric (our scooters have a wide base compared to the typical Razor and elicit this question constantly).  As I answered, another guy asked if the kid had one too.  The kid instantly answered for himself, yelling across the dunes and up to the second floor.  Even giving the details of wheel number, color and manpower.

"Did you hear that kid, man?" The drunk, er, condo goer, asked his buddy.  "He just answered right up to me.  Seriously!  Little kids never do that - they're too fucking scared of strangers.  Kids got balls, man."

Hehe.  I got no sense from P that he had heard his critique.  But its true.  The kid has grown into some serious stranger cajones these days.   At least when you compare him to his pansy parents ;)

But he's still five.  As he tucked his carrot family into their rag beds tonight, he hoped beyond hope that they would live forever and never rot.  We'll see how big the cajones seem tomorrow in the broad daylight when faced with shriveled carrots.  Sweet, sweet babies.  They are just toooooo much fun to watch grow :)