Change is in the Air

I've never said my son wasn't weird. In fact, I think he might have the market cornered on two things: adorableness and weirdness. His newest claim on weirdness comes by way of spare change. He hordes it like a hobo. He won't get out of the car without grabbing pennies out of my cup holder. Whatever he takes, he holds onto all day. When I say all day, I do mean all day. Eight hours later, I find our 8 am penny in the clutches of his little fist, Abe Lincoln having left a little bearded impression in his palm.

Additionally, our barbecue is in such need of replacement that I think breathing on our food would cook it faster. (Bear with me...these two facts are related...I swear) There are days that in the course of cooking a chicken breast, the burners will go out no less than half a dozen times. Cosmetically speaking, which we all know is the most important part of anything we own, it needed to be replaced years ago.

So, we are saving our pennies, literally. We turned in all of our change today at the Coinstar machine for Amazon money. Sounds silly but we got $110. Who better to be introduced to the Coinstar machine than Mr. Change himself. He was reluctant to be pulled from his coloring to go to the machine. I told you, he's got no other toys.

But, once he actually saw the machine and it's function, I'm telling you, the glee on this kid was remarkable. I think he may be let down by Disneyland tomorrow.

Is it weird to take a camera into Albertson's because you know that your child will be overcome with joy at a Coinstar machine and you want to capture his first time exchanging pennies for cash that he doesn't get to spend?

At what point, I wonder, as parents, do we stop caring where we take our cameras? And, when do we get that part of our pride back where we stop doing it? Bryon seems pleased with this flaw in mothers' personalities, doesn't he? I mean, I don't think I'll be dragging my camera back to that same Albertson's on his first day of work when he becomes a cart boy, right? Or, will I?I do, of course, mean Collin being a cart boy, not Bryon upon his retirement from the AF.

Oh, and another change; he is finally to big boy cups. He probably could've done it long ago but I refused to let him. Bryon kept buying them and I kept mysteriously pushing them to the back of the cupboard or throwing them away. Sippy cups are so much easier! I guess it had to happen someday, right? I can't let him be a pilot with a sippy cup. Someone's bound to pick on him for that. He's got enough grief coming to him, what with being our son and all. Maybe I'll let him drink out of my Spode next.

In case you were wondering, that's right, we're going to Disneyland tomorrow. Mr. Jack Skellington is only hanging around the Haunted Mansion for one more day before they pack him away for the year, and after the last few days of neb treatments (aka wonder-machine), our man has gone from the poster child for coughing-related vomiting to being able to actually run and play with virtually no coughing. We think this means we'll be able to handle at least a short trip to the ol' hap-hap-happiest place on earth to pay Jackie-boy his last visit for the holiday season. Hooooooooraaaaay!