This afternoon as I was putting laundry away, I noticed that Jude was poised and ready to pounce from the end-table in the living room over to the loveseat. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence in our household. In fact, because of all of the leaping from furniture to furniture that occurred all summer long, we decided to get Jude a LARGE trampoline for his birthday last year. We still have the trampoline, and yet he still is leaping across the living room. But this afternoon I also noticed that Jude’s usual “direct hit” might be skewed a bit because of a coat laying across the loveseat. Before he pounced, I sternly gave him a, “No. No. No. No. No. Don’t jump over the furniture.” just as he was about to take flight. I was too late.
Jude smacked his thigh right on the arm of the loveseat and the crying/wailing/screaming that ensued was quite a delight. (As I’m writing this, I just heard Noelle say, “Jude! Get off the stinkin’ pot!” as Gavin replied “Noelle, it’ll be forever.”) Back to the crying/wailing/screaming...it was long and loud. I decided to take advantage of this moment by 1: cleaning all of the boogers off of Jude’s face and out of his nose that had built-up from the cold he has and 2: ripping the Yoda bandaid off of his right arm that had been there for no less than 9 days. No cuddling or sweet-talk could comfort this boy for a good 10 minutes.
At one point, through tears he yelled, “I’m bliiiiiind!!!!!”
to which I couldn’t help but giggle and say, “You aren’t blind.”
“Yes I am.” little man replied through tears.
“Honey, can you see?” I asked.
“Yes.” said Jude.
“Then you aren’t blind. Blind is when you can’t see anything.” I inform him.
The crying stopped and we moved on with our lives.