Creature of habit: Biscuit is definitely a creature of habit. He likes things the way he likes them, and we often struggle with where to draw the line between letting him do things the way he's comfortable doing them and reminding him that he doesn't always get his way about things.
We drop Biscuit off at the school's multipurpose room each morning. We have the option of dropping him off at the front door, but after dropping my routine-oriented boy off just one day at the multipurpose room, he decided that's how it should be.
The first day we went there, he introduced himself to the woman at the curb. The school has people stationed at each drop-off site to help the kids get out of the cars. As soon as the parents stop, the helpers open the car doors and help the kids out. Then they help them put on their backpacks and get their lunchboxes and whatever else they have.
"My name is Griffin," he said very confidently to the helper the first week of school. "But you can tell that if you look at my backpack. It says Griffin on it. And my star says Griffin, too." (The kids have stars on strings attached to their backpacks that say whether they're bus riders, car riders or afterschool program kids.)
The woman smiled and said, "It's nice to meet you, Griffin."
"What's your name?" Biscuit asked her.
"You can call me Mrs. G," the woman said. I'm not really sure if she's a teacher or volunteer or aide or what.
For some reason, Biscuit felt the need to repeat himself every morning for about the first two weeks. Finally, as we were driving to school one morning, I said to him, "Listen, Mrs. G knows your name, so you don't need to say anything about your backpack or your star.
And he listened ... sort of.
"Good morning, Griffin," Mrs. G said.
"Good morning. Have you ever thought about how your name is Mrs. G, and my name starts with a G?" Biscuit asked. "That makes us both G names."
Then last week, Mrs. G REALLY threw him for a loop. She wasn't there.
We drove up to the multipurpose room, and as the substitute opened the back door on my car, Biscuit looked up like the woman like she was a two-headed alien.
"Um, excuse me, where's Mrs. G?" Biscuit asked the substitute.
"She's not here today," the woman said as she helped Biscuit out of the car.
Biscuit stared at her for a few seconds and said, "Okay. I'll just see her tomorrow."
Just alike: I love when Biscuit starts talking about things out of nowhere.
A couple of weeks ago, we were doing homework, and Biscuit said, "Mom, there are twins in my class. They're girls. And they wear the same shirts ... EVERY DAY! Can you believe that?!"
It's always funny to me when Biscuit notices trends or patterns in things. It means he's paying attention to the world around him. And that's a good thing.
A sense of justice: Biscuit was telling us all about the Liberty Bell. It was probably more than I actually knew before about the Liberty Bell.
He got to one part that I just thought showed his sense of justice.
"Guys, there was this king who was being mean to the people. He was taking their money and just not being nice to them AT ALL."
There was a bit of a pause, like he was thinking about it, then he said, "Now was that fair to all the humans? No, it was not."
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