Monday, September 6, 2010

v2, d160: Sight-Gag

We seem to have established a beditme routine that works pretty well.  We have dinner, put away toys, take a bath (most nights), have family "cuddle time" in our bed, brush Robbie's teeth, get a drink of water, tell a story (Hairy Bear and Scary Bear stories are currently the favorite), lay on the floor together for a few minutes, turn on the theme from Forrest Gump, close the door most of the way, and leave Robbie to fall asleep.

It's so much better than lying next to him for over an hour until he finally went to sleep.

Lately, routines-within-routines have sprung up.  For example, during cuddle time, Robbie usually wants to talk to the baby (he seems to believe the baby will be able to hear him better if he speaks directly into Kim's belly button) and he usually wants to spend time with all three of us laughing simultaneously.  He will generally cue us in that it's time for this exercise by asking, "Will you laugh with me?" or "I want us all to laugh together."  And then we'll laugh, and he'll stop and ask what we're laughing about.

And so it goes.

Tonight, Robbie asked if we could all laugh together.  Kim asked if he would tell us a funny joke.  He paused for a moment and then started laughing.  "I told my funny joke!" he exclaimed.  "I didn't hear it," I replied.  "Robbie, a funny joke has to have words," Kim explained.  (Note: his usual funny joke is: "GEIGER!  GEIGER GEIGER!")  Robbie laughed and shook his head so wildly he almost knocked himself over.  "No a joke does not have to have words!" he said.  "Are you going to do a sight-gag?" I asked him.  He stopped laughing and sat still.  "Yes!" he said.  Then he paused for a moment, and you could tell his mind was working.  At last, the threw both arms up in the air, tossed his head back, and shouted "SIGHT GAG!!"