"I'm Pooped"

I just tucked Banner in for the night, and I immediately hopped on the blog to write this story down because it was too cute not to! We read a book from Banner's school library tonight. It's about a superhero with a secret identity: a young boy. In the middle of the story, the "superhero" talks about how tired and worn out he is and says, "I'm pooped! (I love to say 'pooped.')" and Banner thought that was so funny. I explained that "pooped" can mean extremely tired and exhausted. He said, "No, Mommy, it means to go potty." I said, "Yes, that's typically what it means, and most of the time you say it, that's what it means, but sometimes people will say that they are so tired - they are pooped. It just means they are tired and really would like a nap!" "Oh," he said, and we read the rest of the book. He wanted to hear the story again, so I read it, and when we got to that part, of course he laughed again.

After we read one more short book, I told Banner a story about the "Inja Turtles" (as he calls them). He was pretty demanding about what should happen in the story, and I tried several times to even tell a different story altogether - stating that "Daddy is really the only one that knows the Ninja Turtle stories; it's special for you and Daddy." But, he insisted that it could be special for me, too, so I tried. The story kind of sucked, and I could tell he was ready to fall asleep, but he kept throwing out different characters (Penguin) and places (Gotham) and events (they built an igloo) that should be included. None of the ideas went together, and I could tell he was ready to doze off so I quickly ended this absurd story, and then, Banner said, "I'm finished, Mommy," as if he had been the one telling the story.

Then, he closed his eyes as he turned toward me and we held hands. He had a very faint smirk on his face.

"I love you so much," I said.

"I love you so much, too, Mommy."

"Goodnight. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight. Sweet dreams," he echoed in a soft slur.

"I'll see you in the morning," I whispered.

"See you in the morning."

A long pause followed. Then, he started telling me about a disagreement he had at school with another boy. "C. thinks Blades is a monster truck, but I told him he's a helicopter."

"Makes sense to me," I softly replied.

Then, his eyes closed again.

"I love you, Angel Baby," I whispered.

"I'm pooped," he said. We both grinned, and then he was out for the night.