Today on the playground, some girls were calling Chewey names. Granted, they were doing it because they wanted him to chase them–they were the pretty princesses and he was Sir Stinkypants. He was getting very upset by this until M explained the situation to him and told him what to do about it. And here begins the conversation:
Chewey: I do not like the name Sir Stinkypants.
Girl (confused): What?
Chewey: I don’t like that name. You can call me by my first name, Chewey. Or my last name, Count Duku.
They elected to call him Chewey.
So, here’s the break down for Chewey’s day:
Good Choices: Check
Social skills: Check (He didn’t decide to go push them down. Go boy!)
Appropriate request to stop an undesired behavior: Check.
Real world: Uh… not so much. And apparently my last name is now Count Duku.
It’s my own darn fault, really. After all, this is the child we named Chewbacca Wolverine in utero (it’s a long story, and I’ll tell it, but not today). So no, I can’t fault the boy his Star Wars obsession.
There's a Bee in my Bodice 