Look, Ma, No Hands

It's funny how sometimes I think that Matthew is so mature and well-thought-out for a kid his age...and other times, I realize just what a perfectly five-year-old boy he is!  It's not uncommon for me to think these thoughts within an hour of each other...like yesterday.

First, the moment I thought my little guy's growing up...
Yesterday, when I was making lunch, I was certain that Matthew was going to hate what I made.  I'd cooked up a bit of whole wheat penne (which he loves), added a couple of spoonfuls of pesto, grated a bit of fresh parmesan over it, and topped it with a large, diced tomato.  When we sat down to our green and red bowls full of lunch, Matthew declared it to be a Christmas dinner of sorts.  The dish was distinctly flavoured because of the strong pesto and sharp parmesan, and I confess that I was dreading Matthew's response to it (and the fact that he'd then be hungry for a while).  To my surprise, his response was very different than I'd anticipated.  He loved it...wolfed it down.  Asked if we could have that again for lunch.  Hmm - that was nice surprise, and I was pleased with his willingness to try and like something new.  Yup, I thought, pleased and a little sad, he's growing up.

Then, the moment I thought my little guy's exactly and delightfully his age...
After lunch, while I was putting breakfast and lunch dishes into the dishwasher, Matthew hauled out the central vacuum hose and plugged it in.  He said that he wanted to do a little vacuuming.  Who was I to argue with that unheard of initiative?  Again, I thought, he's growing up!!  From a distance, I could hear him pulling the vacuum around the living room.  After a while, though, I started hearing a lot of giggles, then outright bursts of laughter.  Intrigued, I went to check it out.  I wish I could show you a picture, but that might not be the most appropriate thing in the world to put on a family-rated blog.  You may already be guessing what I saw.  Matthew was stripped down to his underwear, hands moving wildly over his head as he danced around the room, his whole body in motion.  But that wasn't the part that was making him laugh so hard.  No, that was because he had detached the powerhead from the vacuum hose and he was using the vacuum's suction ability to attach the hose to his, well, private hose.  As he pranced, the vacuum moved with him, firmly hanging on to those delicate parts covered only by underwear.  I admit it: I laughed so hard my legs turned to jelly and I had to sit.  As I sat there, laughing, and watching him laugh with gleeful abandon, I thought to myself that I wouldn't want him a single day older!