One of the great things about having a lot of children is that there is often a three year old in the house. I don’t know if I have a favorite age, unless it is “under six”, but three year olds are particularly delightful. While articulate and imaginative, they retain something of infancy, unselfconscious and without guile.
Our current three year old, Michael Seraphim, is bright and funny and mischievous. He has come a long way from his babyhood, when he was known as “Fussy Fussmore” and “The Horrible Adorable Baby”. Of course he was also cute and sweet- that was the “adorable” part of the equation- but he was also our most ornery baby. He nearly always, for the first two years of his life, woke up crying, if not screaming.
Can you imagine living like that?
Our new baby, Daniel, is blessedly the happiest yet, much to our relief.
Michael started mellowing some when he was two, and while he is still a handful he is also a lot of fun. I will resist regaling you with Michael stories, but allow me to share a couple examples of his cuteness and creativity.
First, his cuteness. Suffice it to say that he calls R2D2, the robot from Star Wars, “R-Tooty-Too”.
And his creativity: I have always used my hands as primitive puppets to talk to young children, and have never found one who could resist a conversation. Michael gives them names, and they sort of assume the personality of his highly evocative names. The characters, so far, are: Myron Jones, Quicky the Snake, Tricky D’Mosso, Joonzy Furtail (a squirrel), and the latest member of the cast, Joey Beans. I assume you know just by looking which of these are the good guys and which are the bad guys, except for Joey Beans. I could see someone named “Joey Beans” as a thick tough guy, like a mob enforcer. But I could also see him as a gee-whiz, freckle-faced cub reporter type. Michael says he is good, so he is the latter.
I wish my boy could stay three for at least three years, but I know it will too soon pass.
I’ll try not to think about it.