Candy Land

This morning Carter got out Candy Land so we could play. This is of course an easy request, considering how well and still he and Mason like to sit, playing quietly and contentedly for hours on end. There are mornings when I ask myself if they are actually around, because they're never crying or grabbing onto my legs for attention. I peek around the corners wondering what they are doing. Then I find them sitting on the floor, generously and kindly sharing toys back and forth, never whacking the other on the head, never complaining that something doesn't work, never beseeching me to play with them, never jumping off couches, never throwing pillows all over the room, never running out screaming because someone took his really special toy and won't give it back. As you can see, we (ALWAYS) have a very quiet, calm, placid household.

But today, things were different. Instead of taking turns turning over the cards and then moving their individual gingerbread men along the board, Carter insisted that they were NOT just gingerbread men, but were in fact gingerbread police men. His green gingerbread police man did not spend any amount of time on his colored block, waiting his turn. He instead flew around the room shooting bad guys with his lasers. When it was his turn to move to a new square, he'd bolt the gingerbread police man into the air with a "psshoww!" and land it on a colored block far too many blocks ahead of his designated color. While Carter and I "played," Mason's two gingerbread police men fought aerial and ground combat, hitting each other, falling on the ground, "bkeew"-ing each other.

I guess none of this should really come to much of a surprise to me, since the other day while Erik and the boys were in the car, Erik told me that both Carter and Mason were shooting bad guys out the window with their lasers. Mason is not yet two. He already knows how to make a laser sound.

My name is Allison Twist. I have two sons.