Apparently, he had gone into my bathroom and put on "makeup" to cover his freckles. He doesn't have very many and they are terribly cute sprinkled across his nose. I don't know if someone said something to him about it or if it was just something he got on his mind, but, nonetheless, it was bothering him and seeing that mom put on makeup, he thought he would try it.
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If I'm not mistaken, there's some glitter on there as well -- who knows??? BUT, you can't see any freckles, can you?
I had to take a rag and lots of soap to get it off his face. He said, "So why don't you look like this when you put makeup on?" I told him he had used the bronzer and that makeup was not for boys. He told me, "Well, you look the same all the time -- night and day." I'm not sure that was a compliment -- possibly, but probably not. I'm not sure it was even relevant.
Needless to say, I told him how wonderful I thought his freckles looked. I'm sure he's officially mortified now. Apparently, I'm entering his "dumb mama" phase as I'm not to tell him he looks handsome or cute or anything of that nature.
A few nights later, I was cleaning his bathroom and so I told him to take a shower in mine. Kevin ended up taking over cleaning the bathroom and I went downstairs. A few minutes later Joshua comes downstairs and says he needs a band-aid. This is nothing new -- he needs minimum one or two a day. I told him he knew where they were and he could get one. He comes over to me and starts to cry. "I cut my hand on your razor." ARGHHH! So, we wrap some tissue around it to stop the bleeding with me assuring him he will not bleed to death (he utters these words as he has a kleenex wrapped around his finger -- he's so into drama) over and over. Finally, I explain to him that he really should NEVER touch a razor; they are sharp and cut you. He thinks he has learned this, he says.
Never a dull moment at our house.
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