Wow! It has been awhile, hasn't it? Well, let's get started...
Josh, for some unknown reason, has decided that the ultimate way to express his disdain, disagreement, and dissatisfaction when we give him instructions that he doesn't like is to blind himself. This is effected by pulling his glasses violently from his head and throwing them to the ground, usually to the accompaniment of a screech, which, if translated, would probably be French, and would probably be a curse word. This is his means of decrying the injustices that are reaped upon him. Our response is typically to confiscate the glasses for awhile, until he has calmed down.
This evening there was an excellent example of this. We had all congregated in mommy and daddy's room for various reasons. Ben was playing games on the computer, Josh was here because everyone else was, daddy was reading a book ("The Restaurant at the End of the Universe") on the bed, and mommy was reading a book ("So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish") at the foot of the bed. As I was lying (laying - I know one's transitive and the other's intransitive), reading my book, which I had elevated slightly above my chest, my forearms resting on my chest for support, Josh decided that he wanted to climb on our bed. Our bed now levitates about six inches off of the ground, since Amy installed a bed frame last week. Since that time, the boys have not generally been allowed to climb on the bed (whereas, previously, a fall from the bed might have caused a bruised head, now it might cause a concussion). However, under certain circumstances, they are allowed up. Now was one of those circumstances, but Amy insisted that Josh had to behave himself or he would be removed from the bed. Within two minutes of being on the bed, Josh tried repeatedly to take a nose-dive off of the edge (this is a new stunt that he enjoys), so he was removed from the bed (isn't it nice to be a parent: legislator, judge, and executor all rolled into one?). This did not meet with his satisfaction.
As I continued to read, out of the corner of my eye, Josh's arms whipped up to his head, and then a small, black smudge flew into the air, arching first upwards, then across the top edge of my book, now downwards to my right, followed by a clicking slap as it collided with mommy. My brain registered that these were Josh's glasses, and that this was Josh's most exceptional denunciation of our judgement. It was a beautiful protest, and I had to admire it. The glasses survived, but were set aside for awhile. Mommy came away unscathed. And daddy enjoyed watching Josh's poetic curse at injustice; I just hope that Josh doesn't take protesting too seriously when he gets older.
7:04:48 PM 
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