Quick One

The boys can't tell me much about what goes on at school.  They seem well treated and I have no reason to think otherwise, but I have to rely on what their teacher tells me.  And I work with kids with special needs - I know how it is.  I know there are times when you like them less than other times.

So I had to smile to myself this morning when I was helping AJ get dressed (I'm going to stop short of saying I "dressed him", I make him do as much of it himself as possible but I do have to micromanage the process) and he said "Come here, my dear. Come here, my dear."

AJ has a habit of repeating phrases he hears.  He is forever telling me "great job!" and "oh, you're okay," and "come on boys, let's go!"

All of which I've said many, many times to the boys.  I'm forever hearing my own or Dora the Explorer's voice come out of AJ's mouth.  This morning at Target I left the boys in the children's DVD aisle for a second and went around the corner to look at books (something I almost never can get away with but we had the entire store to ourselves and they were being unusually quiet and passive) and within a second I hear AJ.  "Hm, where's mom?  I don't see her ANYWHERE!  Mom, oh mom, where are you?"  In exactly the dramatic tone Dora would use.

So when I heard him say "Come here, my dear, come here, my dear," it warmed my heart a little.  Because I never say that. Neither does Dora. Someone at school must be calling him "my dear."