Brady the Goofball!

Friday, October 10th--There may be many a blog entries with this title. He's just my little goofball, so much that I even made up a song about it and we sing it together. (Sorry, peeps, it's a private little tune as are the many I make up for my kids.) Today he gets "goofball recognition" because of a little outing we had. After running a few errands, just him and me, we ended up at Burger King for lunch. I promised Brady if he ate all of his lunch (mac & cheese, fries and apple fries) he could go in the play room. He quickly ate and then we went in. There were only a few kids but he made friends with all of them fast. One in particular was a girl probably 7 or 8 years old. He followed her everywhere and laughed and asked her to watch him climb the towers. Perhaps he prefers older women? It was cute to watch him interact with her. At one point, the two of them had sat down on one of the steps and were chatting. She asked his name, he said, "Bwady" (yes, that's how he pronounces it). She told him her name (I didn't hear that part) and then she pointed to her mom down below. She then asked him who his mom was and he pointed down to me. Then my little goofball matter-of-factly said (and think about Brady saying this with all of his confidence), "MY moms name is..........mommy." All of the parents heard him and we all had a good laugh. (he does know my given name) A few minutes later it was time for us to go. The little girl he was hangin' out with had to go as well. They traded Burger King toys, his was light purple, hers was red so they swapped. Then Brady and I went into the bathroom to scrub off all the nasty germs that cover those playroom towers. We got out and the little girl was gone. Brady was so sad! We went to get in the car and he was looking all over the parking lot. Then he said, "Oh, no fair! I wanted her to come to our house and pway with me!" I said, "Brady, I don't know her mom and we didn't exchange phone numbers." He said, "But MOM, she's my new fwend and I like her aLOT!" I said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do, she's gone." He folded his arms in a huff and grunted.

I felt bad driving away knowing he seemed to have the "hots" for the cute little, older-than-him, blonde but I guess if their paths are meant to cross again, they will. The bigger thought is: Is my 3-year-old son already girl crazy? Please no!