One of the most amazing things about Evan is the way he effortlessly moves from one conversation to the next with Liberace style drama and Virginia Woolf style stream of consciousness. I have an inkling that one day his school might want to label him ADD, but for now, I like to think of him as FYO (four years old).
Ev bursts through the door of my room shouting, “UUUUUGGGHHH!!! I’m so frus-ter-ated! I just can’t do it!!!! I can’t take it anymore!”
“What’s the problem, Ev?” I ask in my verycalmandquiet voice.
“I’m just. So. Mad.” He says, stomping his foot for emphasis.
“Why are you mad, love?”
“Well, I’m just mad because I can’t tangle up my guy.”
He stands there with his little plastic army guy in one hand a piece of twine in another. He looks up at me—waiting for me to understand what to him is so obvious. I raise my eyebrows questioningly.
“Mom,” he says with a voice nearing exasperation (at my ignorance, I’m sure), “I can’t tangle up my guy because he keeps shooting me with his gun.”
“Well, just put your finger over the hole of the gun.” I smile to myself thinking that on the fly, I had come up with a very clever solution.
“Moo-oom. I can’t! No, mom. It won’t work. His gun is very special. It can shoot off your fingers if you’re blocking it.”
He walks out of my room shaking his head.
A few minutes later he is back shouting at the top of his lungs: “Game! On your phone!”
“Excuse me? Is there a whole polite sentence in that body of yours? If so, you best find it and use it.” I pause for effect, “Hmmm…I wonder where it could be?”
Evan raises his hand as if he is in class.
“Um, I know! I know! It’s in my mouth!” Clearing his throat loudly he begins, “A-hem…May I pleasepleasePLEASE play a game on your phone?”
“Nice complete sentence, Ev, but you don’t need electronic equipment to have fun. Why don’t you play with your Lego?”
Gearing up for a storm of protest, I am pleasantly surprised when he responds with a smile, “Hey mom, I got a great idea! What if we actually put these Lego together and build a castle for my spooky guy I named Clutch Powers? Hey I know! It could have a chest box in it.”
Without taking a breath he continues, “And you know what’s inside this chest box? Lots and lots of swords! Ha-ha! Oh and know what we could do with the swords? We could tangle them up with the rope. Ha-ha ha-ha!”
Dangling the twine in his fingers, he grabs the Lego bin and the plastic army guy and races off down the hall with a big smile on his face.
A few minutes later he pops his head in my room and points his finger at me.
“Bythewaymom…I love you.”
“BythewayEv…I love you, too.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he says as his eyes crinkle up with a smile.
And off he goes again: my little FYO wonder.