Crinkle, Crunchy & Screatures

We’ve been sort of busy around the house lately trying to prepare for the new baby’s arrival. I think I’ve been making Rick a little crazy with all of my nesting projects. There have been plenty of closets cleaned out, furniture rearranged, and laundering of baby clothing and bedding. In the midst of all of this effort, Quin has been a source of amusement. (Although he is still in denial about getting a baby brother.) I won’t bore you with too much, but there are a few little stories that we found entertaining.

Crinkle
Quin’s singing abilities have kind of developed lately. He will begin singing at various points throughout the day or night. The funniest thing is listening to him try to sing “Twinkle, twinkle little star.” He seems to think that the lyrics are Crinkle, crinkle little star. Then he intertwines the ABC’s along with it. You just never know what version will come out. He will also point to people and request that they sing with him or perhaps go solo.

Crunchy
The crunchy story is probably my favorite right now. Since Rick has been home with us, he has decided to grow a goatee. He will shave and trim a little on certain days, but many days he chooses not to shave. One day Quin was sitting up close to his dad, pointing out his facial features, ie: chin, cheek, nose, mouth. He touched Rick’s goatee, and simply said, “crunchy.” Doesn’t that just sum it up?

Screatures
Rick had the bright idea of streaming a freebie Netflix movie via the internet using a new little device. (Perhaps he can provide more detail on that in another post.) He chose an old family film titled ‘First Men in the Moon.’ At one point during the film, there were some very cheesy (dare I say Dr. Who-like special effects) monsters or creatures that came out on the moon. Quin kept asking, what are those, what are those? We kept saying those are the creatures. So then when they disappeared from the screen, he would ask, where’d the screatures go?

It’s quite interesting to see just how the language skills develop in a two-year old boy. Frankly, I’m glad he doesn’t get everything exactly right. Imagine the entertainment we’d miss out on.