SkippyJon Jones and other choices

I know, I am blogging 2 days in a row, it is crazy to me too. Mainly this occurred to me, and I wanted to write it down and also, our computer is up and running, thus why I am able to post and also why Zach has made a facebook reappearance. You are welcome, world!

So Bishop has come to an age that his little independence is sometimes stifling. For us as parents, that is. Actually, stifle is the wrong word. He is getting fairly mouthy. A perfect example is that we will be all together in the car, and he will be saying, "Hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad, hey Dad" While Zach is talking to me about something, and I will finally cut in with, "What, Bishop?" And he promptly replies, "NO! I'm talkin' to DAD"

Ahem. That is a good example. He has also recently decided that he is the ruler of his own life. Which, to a point, we do allow him to pick things. For example, yesterday, we were spending a Barnes and Noble gift card he got, and I really wanted him to get a certain book (The Story of Ferdinand) and he decided that he wanted to get a different book. That we had never read before and knew nothing about. BUT the book came with a little super-hero cat action figure. THAT was the selling point. And because it was a set, it was all boxed up so I couldn't even glance though to book to be sure it was something we would like. Bishop, however, insisted THAT was the book he absolutely needed. The book is called SkippyJon Jones, and it turns out that it is actually really funny and cute.

It is about a little Siamese cat named SkippyJon who pretends to be a dog and save the day for this other group of little dogs whose beans were all stolen by a bumblebee. It basically makes everything sound Hispanic by adding a 'o' to the end of most words. Here is an example:

Then the smallest of the small ones spoke up.
"Why the maskito, dude?" asked Poquito Tito
"I go incognito," said Skippito.
"Do you like rice and beans?" asked Pintolito.
"Si, I love mice and beans," said Skippito.
"He might be the dog of our dreams," whispered Rosalita.


You see what I am saying here. It is a cute book, and pretty funny, but not the book of my choice. And because it was a card for Bishop...well, whatever, obviously I let him pick. I also bought The Story of Ferdinand, mainly because I wanted it, and I knew that Bishop would actually really like it better (because I am the mom, and know things like that).

Then comes the worst part. Bishop has now decided that he should get to pick out his own clothes. He usually does okay, but today, for example, he is wearing these sweats that are a 3T, meaning, too short, and a 4T shirt, which is fine, but it makes his pants look extra small. And he INSISTED that he needed to wear those pants. Not shorts, not a different pair of pants. Those ones. And I realized a few minutes ago that he looks like a little homeless boy, with his hair a little crazy from his nap, and his too small pants and normal sized shirt. And he is old enough that I can't just change his clothes if I don't like them.

Though, to be honest, if they were really bad and we were going somewhere, I would force the issue. But we are just playing in the backyard, and why not let him pick out his own clothes? The point of this whole blog is that Bishop is growing up and become autonomous, and it makes me sad.

The End.