Max knows his birthday is coming next month, which is rather awesome because it's clear he's understanding the concept of the future, one of the stages of learning.
It's not gifts he's so excited about, or even the purple-centric party we're having at a local art studio. It's the cake. Specifically, a Cars 2 ice-cream cake.
We were at Cold Stone Creamery last weekend. Max spotted a sign advertising a cake. He had his milkshakes (three, of course), then absconded with the placard. Yeah, I let him do it, which means I aided and abetted him. It's been sitting at our kitchen table ever since, right in front of the gigantic purple bowl, Max's little shrine. Yesterday, he took the sign to school with him.
When Max is at home, approximately every 7 minutes he tells me, "Cars 2 ice-cream cake," just in case I've forgotten from when he reminded me seven minutes ago. When he walks into our room in the middle of the night to crash in our bed (yeah, still happening), he peers at me in the dark and says "Ars ooo I eee aay."
Both kids seem to have the repetition gene. This morning, Sabrina woke up and informed me she needed one of those feathers you put in your hair, like her friend K has. Then she asked me a dozen times whether we could get one today. There's this old Raymond Carver story titled "I Heard You Twice The First Time." With my kids, it's more like I heard you twenty times the first time.
Anyway, Max's awesome music therapist, Joanne, decided to make up a song about the Cars 2 ice-cream cake, and Sabrina accompanied them on violin.
I melted.
