Did you know that three-year-olds keep secrets?
I did not. They are three, after all. What could possibly be going on in their life that they wouldn’t tell you about? Or that you wouldn’t know? I’m not sure about you, but Vince tells me EVERYTHING, even things I maybe didn’t want to hear…
When he has to pee, how big his poop is, whom he played with both in and outside preschool. Did you know that Vince has inside and outside friends? Or so he told me… “Abby’s my inside friend, but I play with Gabriel outside”. Who the hell is Gabriel is what I want to know?? He’s been a hot topic of conversation for the last week and a half, only as an ‘outside friend’ though.
Anyways, my point is that every second of his life is an open book that he is reading out-loud non-stop.
So how did I miss that he bites his toenails?
His TOENAILS. He bites them. With his teeth.
And the reason I know this is last weekend, Vince came whining out of his room complaining of an owie on his toe. Since he had only been up for a short time, I asked him what happened thinking he had maybe stubbed his toe of something like that.
“I just was biting my toenails and then I got an owie”.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Because, frankly, that was not really the answer I was expecting. And I might have made a shocked face. Ok, I DID make a shocked face. And then a gross kind of face.
“Honey, did you bite your toes?”
“Mummy, I just bite them a little.”
“Don’t bite your toenails, its yucky.”
I don’t even know when this started. I mean, I do cut his nails. Honestly!
I guess he took matters into his own hands. It makes me wonder what other things are going on behind my back. And then it makes me worry just a little at where this could be leading…
What could be next? Nail biting? Late night 2% milk sessions in the kitchen? Unhitching the safety gate at the top of the stairs and sneaking down for some elicit Mickey Mouse marathons? Ack!
And this is just the pre-school bad behavior. Once he hits elementary, I bet he’ll go big time. Collecting bellybutton lint in little jars, hoarding his fingernail clippings, shaving all his body hair and bagging it up… (this is what I equate toenail biting with).
Ugh. Am I blowing this out of proportion? Naw… I can tell you this though, I will be monitoring those nails like they’re a juvenile delinquent posse. For Reals. (And I will also stop saying ‘for reals’ right now. For reals reals.)
xoxo and sweet toenail biting dreams…