Did you give my son baby brass knuckles?

It’s that time of year, my friends: Ellis’ annual evaluation. I know what you are thinking, “Holy Sh!t, you must be stressed out!” And yes, yes I am. I vacillate between excitement and pure fear anytime I am tested and/or evaluated. This apparently also applies to anything my kid does…so that is really healthy. My fight or flight response was this same this time last year, when Mr. Swirley and I shoved our behinds in toddler sized chairs and faced the American Idolesque panel of (amazing) teachers. The sheer terror! Well, not really but somehow I was still nervous. Today we received the individualized evaluations of our tiny terrorists and I am proud to announce my kid is the class creeper. That right! He may not impress the ladies with this potty training skills, but he can sexually harass the crap out them.

  •  Ellis is very affectionate with both his teachers and classmates
  • Ellis has a great relationship with both his teachers and classmates and is very affectionate towards them.
  • [H]e is easily comforted with hugs and kisses from his teachers
  • Ellis is very affectionate with his friends and is always there to give him an enthusiastic hug, though at times he does need reminders to use gentle touches when he gets too excited.
  • Ellis also loves to sing and can often be found just breaking out into song while working on other activities or when on a walk

I suppose we already knew this was going to be an issue when a teacher told me that 20 month old EK clapped and rubbed his hands together while yelling “It’s showtime” while his friend Lu was getting her diaper changed. Yikes.

In other news, he is LOSING HIS MIND UPSTAIRS. I can hear books and anything else his tiny Hulk arms can lift flying against the wall and/or floor during his predictable nighttime rage. Evaluate that, ladies. I escaped his clutches (he favors the hug-headlock) as soon as he started to snore.

I also painted a piece of furniture with oil based primer and didn’t realize it’s incredibly difficult to remove said paint from one’s hands until after I essentially took a bath in it. I just scream “crafty”.

One thought on “Did you give my son baby brass knuckles?

  1. Pingback: Oh, I roofied like 40% of the drinks here. It’s a numbers game. | swirleytime

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