2 things

1. Yes, it's true. I just told Rooney that he could "eat all the candy you want until 4pm." The boy amazes me. He has candy in his room that he's had since last Halloween. Every day he asks me several times a day if he can eat a piece. I told him a long time ago to "eat it ALL! Get it OVER with!" But he insists on eating it slowly and asking me each time. This is really odd to me. When I was a kid, I pretty much had all my Halloween candy gone by November 2nd. And, I never asked to eat it, I figured it was mine. So here's to hoping that he will finish it today. Of course, Easter is right around the corner and he'll have a whole new bag to pick at.

2. The school called today around noon to tell me that "Proto had an accident, could you bring him some dry clothes?" Of course, this happens on a day when it's noon and I haven't showered yet. Bring on the greasy hair and head to the school. I remember a few years back when Hootis wet her pants in 1st grade. I arrived to find her sobbing and in total devastation. This is what I expected today. Apparently, 1st-grade boys have a different attitude about peeing their pants than girls. He was happily sitting on a bench outside the office showing off his "Star Wars" lunch box to another boy. He was completely nonchalant and couldn't have cared less that things were visibly wet down under.

We went out to the car so he could change. He opened up the bag and scoffed because I brought him new underwear, socks, shoes, pants and a shirt. He replied, "All I needed was the pants mom, why did you bring all these other things?" I told him that I figured if he needed to pee bad enough that he wet his pants, there was a good possibility that he had filled his shoes and socks with pee, and just possibly his shirt got wet too. He looked at me like I was a martian, shrugged his shoulders and changed just his underwear and pants. Moms are weird like that you know, being overly prepared and thinking about all the possibilities for disaster. Oh and Thanks mom, what would I do without you? I'm pretty sure that's what he was thinking with that shrug and skeptical look that only a 6-year-old boy can give. You're welcome son.