To The Left, To The Left


Facebook has ruined my blogging. I can no longer seem to craft a coherent, structured series of paragraphs that relate a story.

I think in status updates, you guys. It’s getting problematic.

See, my funny little son has been incredibly amusing lately. I want to share it with people, but it’s the sort of thing better told in quick little spurts. I’m going to try to make this work, chickens. Bear with me. Also, I love coffee.

Sorry. That slipped out.

You guys may remember when Russ turned 4 and refused to acknowledge it, because 3 was his favorite number. (That’s still the case, by the way.) Or how green is the preferred color of everything. He told me yesterday that his brain was green. That’s why green is his favorite color. *status update*

The things you learn. According to him, my brain is blue. I never would have guessed. *comment response*

Now, in addition to a favorite color and number, he has a favorite side. *status update*

Not a typo. He prefers to be on the left side of things. To place things on the left side. I don’t think he knows that being left-handed is a thing. I hope he never finds out. I’m finally starting to be able to decipher his writing.

Here’s the problem. As funny as this is (and it is hilarious, you guys), it makes me worry a tiny, tiny bit. Teaching special ed introduced me to a world of possible issues. Are these things the personality quirks of an incredibly stubborn little man or do I have a budding Howard Hughes on my hands? I can’t help but wonder if these preferences are going to evolve into compulsions. Is he going to start insisting on 3 pieces of broccoli lined up on the left side of his plate?

Mommy don’t play dat.

I’ve spoken to his doctor, both the head and body variety. No one seems terribly concerned. I don’t cater to his preferences and he can function without 3, or green, or left sidedness. I’m probably worrying for nothing.

But damn it. He’s getting 14 blueberries for snack today. Packed on the right side of his lunch box. *status update*

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