Big boy!

Connor is really not a baby anymore. He will tell you so. Today in the car as he was bombarding me with questions, many of which I couldn't quite understand, I tried the catch-all answer, "I don't know." Since I knew this would probably not satisfy him, and would perhaps even anger him, I tried to sugar-coat and said, sweetly, "I don't know sweet-pea." Well, this angered him for a different reason. "I'm NOT a [this slowly, uncertainly] sw-ee p-ea! I'm A BIG BOY!" I quickly agreed, but not quickly enough, so he brought out the big guns: "Mommy told me I'm a BIG BOY!!"

He is indeed policing us very carefully now for signs that we are treating him or addressing him as a baby. This makes me nervous because it means that our nicknames for him are suspicious. For instance, we like to call him "bunny." I don't know why exactly, but he just looks like a bunny. So lately he asks, "Is a bunny a big boy?" Yes, I assure him, with all the earnestness I can muster, a bunny is a big boy. This one is anyway.