The other day, I was sitting on the couch with my husband. I looked over at Bones' bedroom door, and he is standing in the threshold, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of sports socks... the kind that cover only your feet and don't even reach your ankle bones.
He's standing in the threshold, arms are flailing, dancing in a circle, little feet pattering around, head bent down watching his feet, and... he looks like the village idiot.
It's like a train wreck. I can't quit watching. He's in his own little world, dancing nekkid, to his own little music.
I nudge my husband. My husband looks over and rolls his eyes. I say to him, "You know, he got this from your family. My family is not so energetic. If your Mom were around, she could tell us. I bet you were like this."
He says, "I know, I know. Sometimes I think he needs to be medicated. My Mom probably thought *I* needed to be medicated. Thankfully, I outgrew it."
And we looked over and there Bones stood, grinning and dancing... hopping and leaping in place.
Sometimes I wonder what is going through that little 5 year old mind. Other times... I don't want to know.
A picture of the boy who marches to the beat of a different drummer in the extended entry...
(Click to Enlarge)Posted by Boudicca at May 12, 2005 11:24 PM