At Age 4, Boy Still Not Sexist

Thing 1 is always dropping some sort of funny.  I used to blog every jewel out of his mouth, but have slowed down recently.  He's so funny my fingers hurt.  He can get his own damn blog if he's so freaking hilarious.

Today he said something that didn't seem like it would be funny.  It didn't seem like it was going to wind up in a public forum, for fear that someone might conclude that I, meaning the TV, was teaching my son inappropriate behavior.  I think everyone can agree that I would never do such a thing.

He came to me this morning with a list of demands: paper, crayons and something to drink.  It sounded a bit suspicious to me, but as he said 'please' and is as cute as a button, I did his bidding.  I know, I spoil.

When I returned with Old King Cole's requests he said to me, "Daddy, I'm treating you like a girl."

Crap.  Obviously he didn't realize I was only kidding when I yelled at my wife to get off her ass and bring her man a beer.  I assume my wife knew I was kidding, she never brought me the beer.

I was nervous.  It was time to drop knowledge about respect and understanding. Treating people the way we want to be treated is big with me.  I put on my dad-face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, straightening my belt, or the band of my underwear as it were, to sit down and have a bit of a chat, mano-y-mano, about said respect and stuff.  "What do you mean, you're treating me like a girl?"

"I'm treating you like a girl," he replied, "because I love you."

"Oh," I answered.  "I suppose that's nice of you."

"Thank you," he said.  "Now will you get me some glue?"