Patrick came running over to me a few minutes after the start of his new tumbling session.
"Are you sure I am in the right class?" he whispered.
I asked if it was Tuesday and he confirmed that it was.
"You're in the right class," I told him.
"But they all come up to my elbow," he explained and, sure enough, he is the oldest in his group this time by about four years. I think many/most girls tend to do gymnastics rather than T&T and boys his age are starting to do other stuff.
As we drove to tumbling yesterday he told me that his coach had asked him to act as a big brother to some of the other kids.
I feigned surprise. "What? He wants you to ban them from your room, patronize them when they tell jokes and violate their personal spaces until they bite your fingers? How odd."
Patrick said, "I know, right? If I give any more wedgies I'm going to sprain my wrist."
Caroline and Edward had their five year well child check yesterday. Edward is a little tall and average weight; Caroline is a little short and a little skinny. Caroline failed her hearing test so we have to come back in a month (yes! another chance to take a healthy child to the pediatrician in mid-winter) but our doctor duly appreciated the massive improvement in Edward's speech and his hearing is finally perfect. They continue to have all of their bits and parts in all of the right places and although the pediatrician said they are both "fine" I am pretty sure he meant that in his fifteen years as a physician he has never seen such gorgeous, brilliant, glowing testaments to the fact that man is truly nature's last word. I mean, it was implied.
At the end of the appointment the doctor bade them a cheery farewell and then two nurses bustled back into the room (the one, in fact, being the same nice lady upon whom I thrust a tiny Edward in order to accompany an even tinier Caroline in the ambulance after her one month Well Child check went awry.)
She said, "Who wants to go first?" and Caroline leapt to her feet, fluting, "Me! Me!"
When Caroline realized that they were looking for volunteers to be shot in the arm it was quite a bit like that scene in Free to Be You and Me with the girl and the tiger. Caroline went from "Ladies First!" to "Eddybear! Save Me!" in the blink of a battered eyelash.
They both got vaccinated. They both squealed and wept. Afterward I helped them get dressed and said, "Yeah, I know. It hurts to get a shot but do you know why we get them?"
They sniffled, no.
I said, "The vaccines keep us from getting sick. And not just cough cough oh my throat hurts but very very sick. Like the polio shot you just got? Kids who had polio many years ago would get so sick that they would lose their ability to walk. Can you imagine how awful it would be to get sick one day and then never be able to run again?"
Caroline nodded and looked suitably solemn but Edward shook his head.
"No," he said. "Not me! I'd like poyee... poleeoh. I'd sit in the basement all day and play Scooby-Doo and when I needed to go poop I'd just call you and you'd carry me where I want to go."
He smiled, "Polio would be awesome."
And that, my friends, is why trying to rationalize with a preschooler is stupid.