Overheard In Connollyland

This morning I told Liam that it was time to get dressed.  The following conversation is what followed:

Shannon:  “Liam, it’s time to go get dressed.”

Liam:  “I wanta wear de orange shirt, please.”

Shannon:  “Well, okay.  Let’s see what’s clean and in your drawer.”

[The only orange shirt of his that I could think of is an orange thermal with tiny blue stripes, so I began digging in his drawer for it.  I was holding him at the time, so he could see in the drawer.  I pulled out the thermal and showed it to him.]

Shannon:  “Here’s an orange shirt, how about this one?”

Liam:  [pointing to an orange and blue-striped rugby shirt] “No, Mama.  I want that orange one, please.”

Shannon:  “Well, okay.  Let’s get you some pants.”

Liam: [pointing to the drawer again]  “I wear blue jeans, please.”

Shannon:  “Okay then.  I guess that takes care of that then, doesn’t it.”

———————————————————————————

We were in the Trader Joe’s this morning.  I was standing in the bread section perusing the hamburger buns when Liam started gesticulating wildly and pointing to the wall above the bread.

Liam:  “STOP.  STOP.  STOP.  I see STOP!!!”

Shannon:  “Actually, that says bakery ‘shop’ Liam, but you’re really close, that’s great!  Stop is spelled s-t-o-p, but that spells ‘shop’ s-h-o-p.”

Liam:  “Oh.  Okay.  Shop.”

I swear, the kid’s going to be reading before he’s three.  Nothing shocks me anymore.

———————————————————————————

While we were in the Trader Joe’s, Liam made fast friends with one of the employees, as he is wont to do.  This time his friendship got him a balloon, in the color he chose (which was red).  After we finally got into the car after dealing with the groceries in the pouring rain, I tied the balloon to the door handle on the passenger’s side of my car so it wouldn’t obstruct any of my vision (especially since the weather was already horrible).

We were driving down the road, about five minutes later when the thing unexpectedly (and terrifyingly) popped.  It scared the bejesus out of me (anyone who knows me knows that I was the kid who could never win the relay on field day that involved sitting on a balloon and popping it and the idea still makes me nervous now, so this made me jump out of my skin a bit) and left Liam asking what the noise was all about.

Liam:  “Did you hear that sound?  Did you hear that?”

Shannon:  “Yep.  That was your balloon.  It popped.  I’m sorry about that, kiddo.”

Liam:  “Oh no.  Where’s da balloon?”

Shannon:  “It popped.  That means it’s broken.  It’s all gone now.”

Liam:  “Oh no.  So sad.  Balloon gone.  Liam so sad.”

I could see him in the rearview mirror and he was genuinely distressed about the loss of his balloon.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again:  there’s nothing worse than seeing your kid in pain/sad/distressed.  At least this time it was short-lived as several fire trucks passed us shortly thereafter with their sirens blaring at which point he forgot all about his balloon and began reciting the words from his fire truck book under his breath.  Being Liam’s mom is fantastic.  I wish I could bottle the cuteness and save it up for his adolescent years…

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