Chunky has always been a creative little soul. Unlike his logical older brother, he views the world with emotional framework, abstract connections, and sometimes downright weird ideas. Yesterday, he chose to bestow his particular genius on his unsuspecting grandmother.
Kory and I had gone to a parent/teacher conference, leaving the boys with my mom. She was sitting in the living room when she noted Chunky making a little fort between the end of the couch and the wall. As making forts is by no means an unusual activity for a four-year-old, she didn’t think anything of it.
But when Chunky trudged into the kitchen, rifled through the Tupperware drawer, and returned to his fort with a small plastic bowl, my mom’s interest flared.
“What are you doing?” she asked my son.
“Nothing,” he responded quickly and ducked into his fort.
He emerged shortly thereafter with rumpled clothes and scurried back into the kitchen. Again he passed my mom on the way back to his tent. This time with a slightly bigger plastic container.
"What are you doing?" she asked again.
He burrowed back into his fort only to reappear within moments, shorts oddly askew. He secured a larger container and traipsed back to his hideout.
“You need another bowl?” Mom asked.
"The others were too little."
"Too little for what?"
“Nothing.” He disappeared once again.
Mom couldn’t stand it. She tiptoed across the room and peeked over the edge of the sofa. There was Chunky, britches down, sitting on a Tupperware bowl. Mom bit back a chuckle.
“What are you doing?”
Chunky, clearly wondering what there was to question about the situation, merely raised his eyebrows and grinned.
“Would your mommy want you to do that?” Mom asked, struggling to keep her face straight.
Chunky shook his head ‘no.’
“Let’s go to the potty,” Mom suggested.
Chunky tried to stand up, but his little cheeks were stuck in the container. Mom had to de-Tupperware his backside, get him to the bathroom, and put all his makeshift toities in the sink without howling with laughter. If she’d lost her cool, Monkey would have gleefully joined the debacle.
Now, if you’re like us, you’re asking “Why?” Well, I’m here to tell you, sometimes there is no why. There’s just a new idea and the fortitude to put it into action and stay the course, even if the first few bowls you get are too small to contain your vision.
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