I've got 99 posts....

And here's one more.

Before I forget, here's stuff Breckin says.

We do frequent Goodwill or consignment store trips and I used to ask Breckin straight up if he wanted to donate anything.  He'd get a freaked out look in his eyes and panic all over the place and mentally snatch his toys out of sight for fear of losing them to dusty shelves.  Of course his answer was NO and sometimes it was accompanied by tears, loud voice shouting, or grabbing the nearest stuffed animal and hugging it.  That kid has never met a toy he doesn't like and he treasures every single one he has.  What he doesn't know is that I load a few handfuls in the bottom of the "clothing" boxes- just things he hasn't played with or have been stashed in the closet for over a year and never mentioned.  Only after I make the swoop through do I ask him if there's anything he's ready to part with.  There never is.

I've learned the hard way to preface the Goodwill trips with "Don't freak out or get upset, but I'm going to Goodwill and if there's anything you'd like to share with other kids, put it in this box."  For a while, he was ready and willing to donate Tiki's toys and, more recently, Ella's.  We have a little talk about only giving away your own stuff (ironic, I know, since I give his stuff away all the time).  Well, this time the tables turned.

He says, in his most earnest voice, at breakfast the other day:  "Mommy, don't get upset.  Don't cry.  I just wanted to ask you if you were ready to get rid of your teapot collection today because I notice you don't get them out and play with them anymore."  He's right.  He just doesn't understand parental hoarding and the beauty of nice things displayed in a home.  Or something.  I told him that I liked having them and would love to have a tea party whenever he was ready.  That stopped him momentarily but we may be having a super fancy tea party with Optimus Prime, a lego man, Breckin, Ella, and his favorite stuffed reindeer.  Fun.



Also- Daddy was sorting through his Christmas presents and muttering "garage, garage, not garage, garage, not garage" as to where his things would end up.  No, they aren't already being shuffled off to the wooden grave of junk- he got mostly tools and tool paraphenalia. 
Breckin says "Was Daddy talking about garage stuff again?" 
Me:  "Yep.  He's figuring out where his presents go." 
Breckin:  "Yeah.  That's how he rolls."


And, Ella says Ho Ho Ho, ham, eeyore, mama, bapa, mmmm, hot, hat, and the crowd favorite  HI! 
Just wish I could record them and show you....