I’ve said it before, 2 ½ year old Zachary has impressive vocabulary and quite impeccable grammar. The boys a freakin’ genius, what can I say. However, today he said the cutest little Zachism that couldn’t help but warm my heart and make me want to learn to crochet him a big cozy in which to wrap him and cuddle him forever. (Woah, sorry. That was weird. Don’t know where that came from). Zach was doing a Martin-boys favorite: pulling all of the couch cushions and pillows off of the furniture and on to the floor. They usually call this “playing pool” – and the pillows become water and one of them is the lifeguard saving the drowning one, etc. Today, however, Zachary went frantically and ecstatically about removing all cushionage from couchage in a different way; I could just sell that something special was a-happenin’.

“What are you making?” I asked him.

He grinned at me from ear-to-ear and exclaimed, “A HUGE jumporene.”

Well, I can tell you who WON’T be jumping on a jumporene this week – that’d be my gimpy son, Matthew. On Monday, despite my protestations, Matthew wore one of his pairs of ‘at-home jeans’ to preschool. (‘At-home jeans’ are the ones that within a week or so of purchase they SCREAM: “little boy who loves playing Lego’s, trucks and John Deeres on the floor!!” and they totally rock the ‘80’s torn and trashed knee look. In essence: perfect AT-HOME jeans. So, anyway, he comes out of his room all of 3 minutes before we need to walk out the door for preschool. Fine. At-home jeans it is. It’s not like I expect a three-piece suit for preschool, just something a little less…at-homey.

So, Zach and I arrive to pick up Matthew after preschool, and I’m informed by Mrs. Morris that Matthew got some serious rug burns on his knees. She wasn’t kidding. Apparently, Matthew decided to “run” on all fours while playing in the Big Room. His left knee has a pretty bad scab. Yes, I’m sure it hurts. I’m sure it’s no fun. And I do empathize…a bit. But the kid is walking around like he has a peg leg. The last couple of days, he’s told me all of the following: “I will never walk ever again – for eight months…I need you to carry me…I think I need a wheelchair…No, Mom, I can’t clean-up toys ‘cuz my knee hurts too much…My knee will never ever get better. Ever.” Yeah, you could say he’s a little dramatic. Yet he could still push Zach out of the way and sprint to the shoe-removal stool in the garage. Interesting. I think he will survive.