So I’ll let The Geek entertain you. Here’s an e-mail from tonight, in its entirety.
Simon picks up a full cup of water, takes a drink, and “looks” at me. You know the look.
“Simon, don’t spill.”
He empties the cup on the kitchen floor.
Before I can even react, he hollers, “TIME OUT!” and dashes out of the room in a grinning, toe stepping, flash of blonde.
In the other room he’s singing the time-out song and dancing like a crazy monkey on a hot plate . “Time out. Tiiiime out. Timeout. Time out. Time out.”