"You've told me not to do such an awful lot of things that I can't remember them all."
(Davy, six-year-old twin to Dora from Anne of Avonlea)
I've decided that Seth doesn't remind me so much of Calvin anymore, but Davy from Anne of Avonlea. Davy is a six-year-old boy that is adopted by Marilla Cuthbert and Anne of Avonlea is largely about his adventures and the trials of Marilla and Anne bringing up twins. Calvin, from anything I've read in Calvin and Hobbes, has no lovable and redeeming qualities. He's just a capital "B" Brat that has a bit of a mean streak. Davy, on the other hand, is very mischievous and always getting into scrapes, but is also very lovable. Much like my Seffie.
I have said repeatedly - and I go on record as saying it AGAIN - that I cannot imagine how much more mischief this boy of mine can create. Just when I think that surely he'll be calming down a bit, his escapades seem to increase. Sometimes I do wonder if it's because I have an abundance of rules and he just can't remember them all. Other times I know he's just being a twerp.
The last few days has brought about something new: increased VOLUME when he speaks. It seems that when he is excited, which happens to be a lot, that he cannot speak in anything less than about 500 decibels (with the normal range being 50-60).
On one of the games he plays on the computer, he squirts water at Mickey Mouse (or one of his cohorts) and he often gets so worked up I'm sure the entire cul-de-sac can hear him because he can't play it without yelling at the computer in excitement. Sometimes he gets scared too if he thinks one of the objects of his attack is chasing him and yells for his sister to come and help him. Sometimes she does. Sometimes she's busy and doesn't. When she doesn't, he gets a little perturbed and yells things like:
"THAT'S FINE! I DON'T NEED YOU! I'M REALLY NOT SCARED ANYWAY!"
Apparently today in Sunday School he put on a concert, singing his favourite Jungle Jam songs. He put popsicle sticks in his ears, made faces, drew funny pictures and did his best to make everyone laugh.
During song service tonight, he did his best John Travolta imitation and practiced his Staying Alive routine. I have to constantly be on my guard with him, because if I don't I'll find him turning around making funny faces to people behind him. He then periodically sneaks over to me to give me a big kiss or hug. Or sometimes to bug me by tickling my neck or earlobe - which he knows I DETEST.
It's ever so hard for a five-year-old boy to sit still in church, after all.
Tonight after church, Seth was impolite to one of the lady's in the church because he wouldn't answer a question (just a general question about his well being). He has this tendency which we are trying to break, and as a result, his daddy said that he couldn't have a treat. So, off to bed he went treat-less. After 45 minutes of silence, in which I thought he had gone to sleep, he called me into his room. He informed me that he just "could not get comfortable" (a line he has borrowed from his older sister, I think).
"I think I really need daddy to lay beside me to help me get comfortable," he 'splained. He got to sleep in the big bed beside daddy this afternoon, you see.
I went to tell daddy of his request. I wouldn't want him to miss out on this special father/son bonding opportunity, after all. Daddy told me to tell him to "try a little harder to get comfortable". I went in to Seth and relayed the message.
"But, I can't," he said. "I really, REALLY need help to get comfortable," he said beseechingly. (You can tell I've been reading the Anne books again lately).
So, I had him roll over and I tickled his back for a little while. When I was done, I asked him if that made him comfortable, yet.
"Yup," he said. "You can go and let daddy know that I don't need him. I'm comfortable now." So I did.
About five minutes later he yelled from his room to his dad:
"I'M NOT COMFORTABLE AGAIN! I NEED YOU TO COME LAY WITH ME!"
So patient daddy (with a grin on his face, I might add) went in and made him comfortable. And it only took about ten minutes for that little rascal to fall asleep.
He's happy. Dad's happy. And I'm EXTREMELY happy. I have a couple of hours of quiet before I head off to bed. Good night.