Michael has found a new way to experience his love of letters. I bought a set of letter cookie cutters a while back, and after trying to make letter cookies once, I decided it was more trouble than it was worth. So, I relegated them to use with Play-Doh. For Michael, it opened up a whole new world of letter play. For me, it simply increased the number of times I need to polish the coffee table. (Which is still preferable to the tourture of making letter cookies.)
Michael hasn’t mastered the art of cutting out letters in Play-Doh, so I do most of the cutting. Last night, I cut out a “D” and Michael noticed the hole left in the Play-Doh where the “D” was removed from.
“What’s that?” He asked excited.
“It’s the hole where the D was.” I responded.
“A D-hole!” Michael exclaimed, very excited.
He then requested a “B”, his favorite letter. I cut it out, and he picked up the outline shape of the “B” and started twirling it around on his finger. “A B-hole!”
I’ve discovered that parenting isn’t always a clear cut science. You typically don’t make one big mistake that screws your child up for life, and you can’t expect one shinning moment to make up for multiple little failures. What that means to me is that every moment, every decision is an opportunity to do the right thing. Or the wrong thing.
I glanced over at Andy and saw that smirk that said he was thinking the same thing that I was. I raised my eyebrow in question, but he didn’t say anything. It was up to me.
So, I picked up the “A” cookie cutter and cut out an “A”. Then giggled little an eight year old boy as Michael shouted, “An A-hole!”
I guess I should start saving for his therapy fund, shouldn’t I?