A strange thing is happening inside my house.
Mo is getting a lot more mature.
I asked him the other day which kind of fruit snack he wanted: Dora, sharks, the Chipmunks or ponies. His answer, "It doesn't matter, Mom. They all taste the same."
Suddenly there's no fighting over who gets the monkey plate or the rocket ship plate, the polka dot spoon or the pumpkin spoon. Mo says, "Just give me whatever."
In fact, he even took back one of the "baby" forks I gave him and replaced it with a plain ol' regular fork.
Yesterday he got upset for having to play in the kid area while I was exercising at the Y. He said I was "wasting his time."
And when I let him pick out anything he wanted for lunch the other day, I was expecting a request for fruit loops, cookies and a side of sprinkles. Instead he asked for a soy hot dog, noodles, broccoli, orange slices, chocolate milk and a cupcake he split with Curly.
He keeps telling me he's a big kid now. I guess maybe he's right.
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