Koombaya

For the past two days I've been the audience for a soliloquy on marshmallows. Grayson has discovered a bag of Jet-Puff biggie sized marshmallows we bought with the intentions of making S'mores. As will not surprise you, however, we ate all the Hershey's before I even found the graham crackers and Oh now we're paying because the bag of sucrosepillowyness is left over and has made our three year old absolutely rabid to cook them over a campfire. He will not condone simply taking them out of the bag and cooking them in the microwave. He will not even consider removing them to eat one raw. What kind of animal am I. No, he must have the Swiss Family Robinson picture in his sweet little noggin that is his family sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows and singing The Wonder Pets theme song. I can't say I'm not down with this scene but he won't accept the living room version. It has to be real-deal camping out "in the woods with a real fire and sticks and a radio when Daddy gets home." Dear God. In the woods? I was going to start you out in the backyard there kiddo. I'm not even sure I'd tent in the woods anymore unless there is a pop-up trailer with my dental floss and fuzzy socks nearby.

I am glad he is becoming brave in his own mind. Maybe this is the first step to conquering those fears that leave him petrified in his own room alone at night or sadly even during the day at naptime. He now won't even take a nap unless I'm sitting right next to him with my eyes wide open surveying the land for goblins. Maybe if we really do take him camping in a tent outside he will see there really aren't any monsters and we can have our bedroom back.

For now, until we can make his Hudson Trail Outfitters dreams come true I will tuck him into his sleeping bag beside our big bed (now his obsession is all coming together) and listen as he talks to me despite my attempts to keep him quiet and sleeping.

Non Sleeping Boy: Mommy?

Harried Mom: This is the last time talking, Grayson. Then it's night night. Yes, what is it?

NSB: I'm thinking about camping.

HM: I know you are, Honey. You've been thinking about camping all day.

NSB: I love camping.

HM: Yes, you do, this we know. We will take you camping soon, I promise. No more talking now, Sweetie. Night Night.

NSB: Mommy? You know what else I love?

(I try to ignore and pretend I'm sleeping but he knows better and tells me what he loves anyway.)

NSB: Marshmallows.

HM: I should've guessed.

NSB: I love you, Mommy.

HM: I love you too, Grizzly Adams.