A smackerel of stories for you today.
#1. Roman was playing at his train table, and bent down to get on his knees. As he did, he let out this grunting "errumph" noise in his throat. He did it again for good measure. I panicked and asked him, "are you pooping in your pants?!" "No," came the reply, "I'm Grandpa. Grandpa makes that noise." And sure enough, when Grandpa (my dad) gets on the floor to play, he does make that exact same sound!
#2. Roman and Daddy have begun playing Legos together the past few days. Doug has (with some trepidation) agreed to share his already-built ones, specifically the Star Wars ships and little Lego guys. Last night, the spaceships were flying around the basement, and Roman landed his on his train table. He took Han Solo out and pronounced, "Han Solo will be on the Island of Sodor." Doug and I burst out laughing - who knew that Jabba's lair was actually hidden on an island filled with trains?! Listen up, George Lucas!
#3. When Roman gets mad now, he knows he's not allowed to hit us or talk back. So he's taken to showing us in a different way. He will open his mouth, think better of what he's about to say, purse his lips together, and emphatically point right at us with his right index finger extended. It's all we can do to not laugh at him (this is usually when he's very angry at not getting his way). All I can think of is he's like some emperor putting a curse on us. I used to think of Moses ("Let my people go!") but now Doug and I say quietly to each other, "a pox on you and your descendants!")