Our boy C-Ray will turn three in a couple of weeks. As of right now, he is the only male grandchild carrying the Mack name, including the offspring of Mack's uncles. The "legacy" of the Mack name rests in his (usually dirty) little hands. Let me tell you about a day in the life of our man-child. C-Ray awakened me this morning with his nose two inches from mine saying, "Snack?" He then proceeded downstairs and helped himself to a Capri-Sun. When he could not figure how to get the little straw in the tiny hole, he simply sucked down the entire juice box through the little hole, leaving a trail of dribbles throughout the kitchen. He managed to have breakfast and get dressed without (much) event. Our entire little troop made our way to the trusty minivan, where he sat in every booster seat but his own, provoking much agitation from his sisters. I then discovered that my cell phone was not in my purse. I went back into the house and called it from our land line. I found it in the bed of C-Ray's toy dump truck, covered in hot fudge from the sundae he ate yesterday. I then took him and Apple to the Strawberry Shortcake-themed birthday party of a little girl from church (there was one other little boy there). In the three hours he was there, I am told that he, for reasons unknown, refused to take off his jacket and managed to hit every single little girl in attendance. We came home, where he did not take a nap, despite my best efforts. Late in the afternoon, while I was trying to straighten up the house, prepare dinner, etc, he managed to do the following:
-Attempt to eat raisins, only to discover that he did not like them, spit them out, and leave them on the floor
-Find the big bag of Skittles reserved for "potty treats" and disperse the entire bag throughout the house, garage, and driveway.
-Ring our own doorbell (at least it wasn't a neighbor's) and run away upwards of 10 times, despite disciplinary measures after each occurance
- Leak grape juice (which is forbidden to leave the kitchen) out of a sippy cup in Mom and Dad's bed- which fortunately had red sheets on it
-Scatter every "outside toy" from the garage into the yard
-Find the gas can in the garage and pour out the gasoline onto the garage floor (p.s. When I called Mack to find out how to best clean up this hazardous little mess, he actually said to me, "Don't light a match in there")
As dinner time approached, I sent all three to the bathroom to wash their hands. The entire time Faithie was trying to do so, C-Ray would shut off the water everytime she would turn it on. He did not eat more than two bites of his dinner, but did poke Apple with his fork at least three times. As we put on pj's, we discovered a big hole in his sock, which his big toe was sticking through- a huge tantrum ensued when I attempted to remove the sock. He finally agreed to a new pair of socks, and while I was putting the first one on, he threw the other one over my head, across the room, and said, "Good toss." Another tantrum occured when a t-shirt he had never seen before was presented to him to wear to bed. We finally got tucked in, where he said prayers, "Jesus, thank you for fun at the birthday party, thank you for baby in Mommy's tummy, I won't hit her, thank you for family, Amen." He was asleep, with his light still on, before I could get the girls tucked in. So, that is the future of the Mack clan. My only consolation is this... everywhere I go, I hear how much like his daddy he looks and how Mack must have been just like that as a kid (reliable sources confirm these assertions). If he turns out to be just half the man his daddy is, we'll be doing all right.