King of the House

Here are some of the charming things Noah has been saying lately:

Last week I went shopping with my sister during Noah's nap. When he woke up my mom went in to get him up. Having just gotten out of the shower, she had her hair wrapped in a towel. As soon as Noah saw her he said, "You need to dry your hair." Then as soon as she finished drying her hair, Noah turned to her and said, "Good job, Grammie!"

The other day I was carrying Noah down to his room to take a nap and he said, "You've helped a lot today!" Who says being a mother is a thankless job? :)

We were playing with a toy bus and cars and Noah would point to something and ask what color it was and I would tell him. After 5 or 6 items of different colors Noah said, "Yeah. Good job on all your colors." Why, thank you, Little Guy.

These next tales show a side of Noah that is perhaps a little less charming but very funny and still, somehow, irresistable:

Noah seems to be under the impression that he is the king of the house and the boss of everyone. The other day when I was at the pediatrician with Sam, my mom was home with Noah. About 45 minutes before I got home Noah got stuck between the bed and the wall (there is a gap big enough for his little body so he wasn't being squished or hurt, but he couldn't get out without help). My mom, naturally, went over to help him out but for some reason he decided he only wanted me to help him out. My mom tried to explain that I wasn't home right then, but as she went closer to help Noah out he said, "Nooooo!" Then pointed to the door and ordered her to "Go to your room!" (As a side note, I would like to say that no one has ever said that to Noah before). And, being persistent and, dare I say stubborn, as Noah is, he stayed between the bed and the wall until I got home (my mom put some books on the bed and he looked at them contentedly the whole time).

Similarly, the next night I was ordered to "Go back to the front room!" when I had the audacity to enter Noah's room with his antibiotic in hand and my dad was ordered, "Go to your office!" when he dared suggest it was time to read stories and go to bed. Fortunately Grammie and Grampie are very good-natured and actually got a kick out of being sent to their room/office by their 2-year-old grandson.