Ali slept for about 14 hours the other night. He needed it, having been up the night before with an ear infection.
In the morning he was cheerful, and full of words. I drank my coffee and listened.
"I had a dream that the girls were chasing me. And then they were chasing me again. They were big. And it was a VIDEO GAME!" he concluded, his voice full of drama.
We have a strange turn around going on at our house these days. Leila likes chasing boys on the playground, and now Ali is being chased by the girls. He kinda likes it, though. I can tell by the amused, slightly proud tone to his voice when he tells me about it.
He doesn't, however, like being called names. "L calls me Bali," he tells me. I ask if he wants to talk to his teacher. He doesn't. I say that Baba can tell his teacher, and he likes that idea. Yesterday he told me that L called him Bali again. "Did your teacher tell her you don't like that?" "Yes." "Did she say sorry?" "No." Oops. I told him we'll know she's sorry if she doesn't do it anymore.
Last night we were lounging around in bed with Ali between us. We asked him if he wanted to sleep with me or in the office. (We don't want him sleeping in his bed right now as being on the floor against a cold window doesn't seem to be helping his cough.) H started teasing him- when you are married you can sleep with your wife. "I don't want to be a grownup," he said. "Why not?" "I don't want to kiss on the lips." We assured him he wouldn't have to, and he confirmed that he could kiss his wife on the cheeks.