Noodle Boy is a nickname my son had when he was a tiny guy and I started this blog. His nickname changes all the time. (Don't worry, we keep his real name the same.) He is completely awesome. Read on and see for yourself!

Sunday, January 30, 2011

"Don't panic."

Jon has a love/hate relationship with band-aids.

He doesn't get hurt that often, but by three years old he has had countless shots and just assumes if there's a band-aid in the vicinity it's because there's a shot to be had. The shot is awful but he's usually pretty psyched about the doctor's office band-aids, they have designs on them and we just get the plain ones at home. Then the band-aid is great, but when it's time to take it off he has a melt down because it hurts to yank it off and he gets little welts on his skin. As you can see, it's just a roller coaster of emotions.

Every time we go to the doctor he asks the nurse if he's going to get a band-aid, but what he means is "Am I going to get a shot?" So in an effort to make the visit pleasant the nurse ALWAYS says, "Well sure you can have a band-aid!" Which then sends Jon over the edge thinking he's going to get a shot.

He even has concern about other people's band-aids...

"Mom? You got a shot?"

"No, Honey. I cut my finger"

"Not a shot?"


"Okay, good."

...And their lack of band-aids.

"Oh no! Your band-aid is gone! What happened?!"

"My owie feels better, I don't have one on today."

"But you need it! Let me see!"

"See, not bleeding. I don't need it."

"Hold still, Mommy. I'm going to poke your owie-don't panic."

He's quick, so it turned out I needed a band-aid that day after all.

Monday, January 24, 2011


Jon is really into smells right now. I know, that's a weird thing for a kid to fixate on, but he does.

First thing in the morning:
"Pew Mom what's that smell?"
"That's your breath honey. It gets stinky when you sleep."
"Oh. Smells like catfood." RIGHT ON. I've never made that comparison but he nailed it on the head.

New hand soap:
"MOM! This smells BEAUTIFUL! Like flowers and pie!"

Semi on the road in front of us:
"He got a stinky zost (exhaust) on his truck. He need to go get it fixed."

The little weirdo wants to huff everything in sight! Every hair and skin care item I own has been thoroughly sniffed and deemed either "stinky" or "beautiful" smelling.

It's really not a huge deal unless we're out and about, but he uses no discretion at all and sometimes he sort of gets us into uncomfortable situations. Click here for a horrifying tale about that.

The really weird part is that he ties smells into any recollection he has of a place or an event. Like when he went back to daycare after his cousin's birthday party and his teacher asked him if he had fun and he replied, "Yeah, smelled like popcorn there."
Or when when I tell him we're going to Costco, "That place has stinky tires. But sometimes it smells like doughnuts." What the heck is wrong with that kid?

So my little sniffer and I were out driving last week and our neighbor was burning his burn pile when we drove by.
"I smell something, Mom." Of course you do, weirdo.
"That's Neighbor Jerry's burn pile."
"Oh. Smells like bacon. I looooove bacon. This place smells delicious. I love Jerry's bacon pile"

We live out in the country, so we don't actually see our neighbors face-to-face that often. mostly because the closest neighbor lives half a mile away. So Jon has no idea who most of them are when we see them, he just takes my word for it that we know these people. But old Jerry is forever lodged in Jon's little brain.

We ran into Jerry later that week at Casey's and we did the usual "Hi neighbor" routine and I said to Jon, "Can you say 'hi' to Jerry? He's our neighbor."

And the light bulb went on.

"The bacon guy?!"

Yes Little Sniffer, he is the "bacon guy"