Hoover talk (with bonus "Spork" dissertation!)

Hoover and I are always together. He smiles with his eyes and shows me a new levels of happiness and frustration . He is at that "tender" age where limits are tested. As a mother I have learned to really ponder the type of punishment I use and the battles I choose to fight. I read a book that said before you punish a spawn, figure out if it was a "childish" act (normal behavior according to age - curiosity of a child) or intentional disobedience (defiance). This has helped as it slows down the pace to make me think before dispensing a judgment /verdict /punishment (duct tape almost always works after thought and consideration of crime, you're welcome! ).
Hoover is now obsessed with being naked. I get run by "butt cheeked" on an hourly basis. I ask jaybird why and he just says "cause". I say "well then, at LEAST put panties on!" (see error in my ways comment below). He continues running and shoots me an "in a nin-it, mom" reply. I wish I was that free (I'm trying it now, nope, not). Luckily he has not done this in public yet ( however, I will allow one free pass: middle of a rival football game, on a dare, in college---- 1 drunk naked field run--don't you wish I was your MILF in college!--stop laughing at the MILF comment).
One of the funniest things I ever saw was orchestrated by Hoover. As a woman the concept of standing up while you pee is a hard one to conceptualize and insert into a potty training curriculum. Luckily at his sitters (and great friend's) house this has been addressed and conquered. When he was first learning, I would stand waiting for him to finish and at the appropriate time say "OK, shake it off now!". This lead to a whole body dance shake move that was hilarious (that now I totally use in Daclub,,chicka,chicka,bowza--yes, you can use it too!!).
I have bought Hoover an assortment of underwear to choose from. He still ends up in his sisters bottoms a lot (he loves dressing and undressing himself numerous times BETWEEN naked tour guide stints). This bothers me a little, but whatever, he's 3!!. Bringing me to that OTHER problem,,, he calls his underwear "panties" (sometimes they are, sigh). Due to raising two girls, this word flub is totally is my fault (his sisters help a little, sorry, kid having 3 "moms" is rough!). I am trying to get out of this habit and "man up" his undergarment lingo. It has been an interesting time.
Communication wise, right now is amazing! He is a very quirky character and has an amusing facial expression to match each statement. He and his faux hawk are local celebrities. People adore Hoover and Hoover adores people. There is no one that can resist those big brown eyes (and if they can,,then a paintball gun "fun run" changes their minds, don't judge me).

My children's boundless energy and gusto for life have given my existence such a boost. I've been having some real tribulations lately and slipping into depression mode seems imminent. Fortunately having kids around makes laying on the ground in fetal position impossible (too busy unclogging toilets and scraping surfaces to remove unidentified matter, WHAT THE HALIBUT!!!). When all is said and done:

......What really is important is WHO is HOLDING your hands, not what THINGS you HAVE to hold in them (as long as I have at least one tube of mascara and an olive).

...now back to my regularly scheduled superfluous post--already in session:

The following spork dissertation is brought to you by:
---KFC Mashed Potatos---
"The side dish destined to be eaten with a spork!"
And by:
---Taco bell Enchiladas---
"The other other white meat, really!"

I love KFC and Taco Bell. It really has nothing to do with their food. You see KFC and Taco Bell are both spork venues. Pepsi, the owner of the chains apparently recognizes what I have for years. The spork is an under appreciated utensil. Dating back to 1874 the spork, also sometimes called a "foon" is used in schools, prisons, backpacking and the like. Because of it's double duty functionality it has also been found in many fast food chains. A spork laying next to the mundane, run of the mill cutlery,, still feels insecure about it's appearance. The fork is always "look at his little tines!!" as the spoon taunts "you wouldn't know the proper bowl size if it hit ya in the stem!!!". The sporks depression is only elevated by the fact that it exists mainly in plastic. Because of it's disposable status it has not gotten the flatware street cred it so desires to gain. Still, the spork remains undaunted and keeps it's elliptically pronged bowl held high. There is room for concern however, as the spork has been seen hanging out with the "strapoon". This drink accessory known for it's stints in Icee's and Slurpee's, is bad luck for the spork. Let us all just hope that the spork can make a turn for better and get itself back on track to utensil notoriety!!!