Lately, Brock has been sorta . . . crazy. I’m not sure if he can sense that the weather is about to change and he will be forced inside for the duration of winter or what. But between him and his sister, I’ve been pulling my hair out.
Literally, my hair is falling out.
I may need a wig soon.
This picture, right here? We bought his Halloween costume on Saturday and we were going to surprise him with it next weekend. He found it and decided he needed to “twy it on, Mom”.
We, very stupidly, let him.
For the next hour, he morphed into a weird little 3-foot, mean version of Buzz Lightyear who thought his dad was Evil Emporer Zurg. We spent the next hour laughing (and crying) at our insane little man. He pulled out every trick he had to beat his dad into submission.
The flying cannon-ball:
The “fwip”: (where Brock actually did a standing front flip and landed on his dad)
The only thing that gives me peace about the fact that I had a miniature version of my husband is that he has to deal with him too.
And that makes me laugh.