Canaan the Ninja

So my kids aren't allowed to drink soda for the most part, except maybe a sip. Therefore, soda is equated with the Water of Life by the boys, especially Canaan.

Last week, I bought everyone fast food for lunch. I got a soda-a Diet Coke. It was late in the afternoon-no soda for the kids. Canaan disagreed with the ruling though and started looking for a way to circumvent it. Finally, he saw an opening when our friends decided to visit. He waited until I was good and distracted, and entered....Stealth Mode. For a 3-year-old that communicates mainly at ear-shattering decibels, Stealth Mode doesn't come easily. Apparently it worked though, because mid-conversation I glanced down to find him laying on the floor at my feet, calmly sucking soda out of the cup. Did he look guilty, you ask? No, he screeched with rage when the soda was removed and placed on a shelf. He better have a future in the CIA.

The Mysterious Smell

Today when I went into Canaan's room, I noticed...a Smell. It wasn't an overtly terrible smell, it was one of those smells that makes you go "What is that? Am I  just imagining that?" Then, as you follow your nose (What is it that makes us do that, by the way? Why do we feel compelled to track disgusting scents to their source?) you find that no, you did NOT imagine it, and furthermore, it's getting more sickening as you investigate. I tracked the smell diligently. Not behind the dresser, or the bookshelf, or under the baseboard heater. Not in the stuffed animals. As I climbed over the bed, around the precariously balanced television, and behind the last box in the corner, I found it. A tomato. Not a recent tomato, either. This was most definitely an antique tomato. It smelled like a combination of vinegar, mold and rotten cheese, if someone had rubbed it all over their feet and then run the Boston Marathon. Thank heaven it was a small tomato. I dread the day he becomes strong enough to carry watermelons.

Cats Are Confusing

Canaan loves, loves, loves the kitty, but finds the actual process of learning basic cat anatomy to be confusing (maybe it's the fur??). Say "Canaan, pick up kitty around the tummy" and he inevitably goes for the head. For a long time he was also unclear as to which end of kitty was the front, but he seems to have resolved that. However, the matter that still brings him to deep puzzlement is the matter of kitty's teeth and claws.
He has mentioned the cat's claws more than once; when asked if he wanted Flower (the cat) to sleep in his bed, he said "no, because Kitty's toes are too sharp sometimes". Reasonable enough. Cats are infamous for turning from balls of snuggly fluff into prickly little scratch-machines, this is true. My most vividly remembered moment is this: Canaan is playing too roughly with the kitty. She carefully unsheathes ONE claw and lightly pokes him in the arm (a sort of kitty "hey, stop it!" sign). Canaan looks up at me and goes "Mommy, kitty has teeth in its FEET!!" Then, in a more speculative tone, "Mommy, kitty's head is in its toes??". Of course, that matter has since been resolved, but he still refers to the cat's claws as "teeth in its feet".