Dinos

Hmmmmm...Dinosaurs.
Much like my tumultuous relationship with my child's cars, I now have a love/hate relationship with his dinosaurs.

Dinosaurs have invaded our house.

We literally have bucket-loads of dinos.

We have stuffed dinos, dinos on our jammies and dinos on our kiddie plates.
We read encyclopedias about dinos, watch shows about dinos and talk about dinos.
We have dinos in our beds, dinos at our table and dinos that watch us on the potty.
There's something disturbing about sitting on the toilet and seeing this...

I don't know.  I can't place it...I just feel like I'm being roared at.

We have even managed to find books that merge his two obsessions...vehicles and dinos....

And when he's not using the book as a skateboard or wiping his boogers in it, we actually manage to read it.

All that to say, we have dinos coming out of our ears!
dinos. dinos.  DINOS!!

Now let me just say...my kid is smart.  I know that every parent thinks that their kids are smart.  And trust me, I'm the first to admit when he's not being very smart.  I'm pretty sure I texted Andy this picture after about 7 games of hide and seek where he hid in the same place all 7 times.  No pillow to cover him.  Not even the tiniest inclination to hide himself with the blanket located directly behind him.  And I counted to 50 every time.  Slowly.

The text read "After 7 games of hide and seek with this as his hiding place, I don't think we're headed to the gifted program any time soon." 

But those are isolated incidents.  Brain farts, if you will.  He's one smart cookie.
Everything I've learned about dinosaurs, I've learned from my 3 year old.
He knows the proper names of all his dinosaurs as well as their sub-species.  No.  Really.
And when I fail to pronounce them correctly, I am swiftly reminded of the proper pronunciation.

"No, Mommy.  It's a Quetzalcoatlus. Ket-zol-co-at-lus."

Oh.  Sorry.  Well...this is the Triceratops.  I know that one.

"That one is actually a Zuniceratops"

Which for those of you who don't know is not a triceratops, but instead, is a ceratopsian dinosaur.  Get it right.  

OK.  Well what about that Ankylosaurus.  He's cool.

"That's a Euoplocephalus."

What?

"You-plo-se-fa-lus."

OK.  I'm done.

There's nothing more confusing to a parent than having your child correct you on dinosaur names.  It's a double-edged sword, really...  

I mean, on the one hand, you're stoked because your child is obviously very bright.  He can soak in information that passes through your ears like water.  He can pronounce things that he shouldn't be able to.  He knows what a sub-species is and which one is which.  And those things are wonderful.

But then there's the other side of the coin.  The one where, as a result of those facts mentioned above, your 3 year old accidentally (on purpose) makes you feel like an idiot.  All the time.  And then, to make you feel even more like an idiot, he lines them up so that you will step on a Spinosaurus.  And yes, that is as painful as it sounds.

And it's all downhill from there. 

Well guess what, Sam?!?  If you're so smart, then surely you can remember to put away your Spinosaurus.
Bam!  I just pulled mommy rank.  So, I've still got that in my favor.

But then that little 3 year old stinker subtly chuckles under his breath and shakes his head as if to say "oh, mommy...you're so pathetic" and very calmly and coyly replies: 
"Mommy.  That is NOT a Spinosaurus.  It's an Argentinosaurus."

AGHHHHHH!!  Enough!  Forget it!  Just go hang your dinos from the kitchen cabinets!