Tonight's bedtime activity, in lieu of a story, was to watch some of the Superman movie. Did a lot of fastforwarding; forgot how much non-Superman stuff was there. Some iconic scenes, which we watched; then went to the flying.
So, now I'm sitting at his bedside while he attempts to get comfortable. He pulls the sheet up, then decides he doesn't want it and kicks it back. Repeat. There he goes; I think he's out. Downstairs to watch the season premiere of Warehouse 13.
The boys and I went to Blue Slide this evening while mommy did some work. We wound up leaving, because a group of 4th or 5th grade kids were making fun of The Boy - using a thinly veiled nickname to mock him, the way he runs, his laughing, etc. It was quite disappointing; I did tell them about themselves before we left, letting them know that making fun of a baby doesn't make them cool or funny, just pathetic and sad. To their credit, one of them actually looked a little guilty. The others didn't.
Philistines and cowards.
If they had to live through a tenth of what he had to endure...
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