The title phrase has become an all too familiar one since Charlie got his release from the Doctor 10 days ago. It seems he has stored up, in internal bottles with the cork about ready to burst open, the energy that he had to harness all summer with his broken elbow.
I still watch him and remind him to be careful (hmm, I'm not sure who was more traumatized him or his parents). To which, as he swings down off of the handrail after swim at the Y, he says patiently: "mom (in that sing-songy voice), remember the doctor said, 'the boy can do whatever boys want to do'."
This bottled energy propelled him through 8 consecutive days of swim lessons where he not only showed up the other kids in his class, he revelled in showing off front and back summersaults over and over again during free time (something he'd never attempted before, just doing, no big deal just energy pouring out.)
You think that he'd be tired after a busy day and 45 minutes of swimming. Ohhh Nooo, he comes home raring to go and runs until dark. At this point I'm ready to collapse onto the couch just from watching his break neck, care free, cast free speed. It is at this point that he wants to sit down and read his book with me. OK we're good to go, story read, now rest.
He has also taken to coming down stairs wearing something looking very prevoiusly played in, like yesterday's dirt. I say: "Charlie, you need to go right back upstairs and put on some clean clothes."
His response, "Why? I'm just going to go out and get dirty again, these are already broken in." Much in the tone of 'a boy can do what a boy wants to do.' Needless to say, he was redirected upstairs to put on clean clothes that he could then turn around and dirty with wild abandon. I saw this cartoon and thought immediatly about my busy boy.
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