1. Scene: an early Monday morning, in Mommy and Daddy’s closet.
Brae (to Daddy): “Daddy, I’m going to pick out a shirt for you to wear today at work.”
(Several minutes elapse. Mommy at bathroom counter getting ready. She doesn’t see the following conversation, but just hears it).
Brae: “Ok! I’ve got a shirt for you, Daddy! Here.”
Daddy: “No, Brae, I’m not wearing that shirt to work.”
Brae, crying: “What? Why not, Daddy? I picked it out special just for you. I want you to wear it today. You need to wear it today!”
Daddy: “No, pick out another shirt.”
Brae: “No!” (full on crying now, temper-tantrum mode, on the floor, kicking and screaming). “Wear this shirt! I picked it out just for you! Why won’t you wear the shirt I picked out special for you? That hurts my feelings. Wear this shirt, Daddy!”
Daddy, very calmly: “Brae, I’m not wearing Mommy’s shirt to work. Pick out another one.”
2. Scene: a park, on a sunny Fall day. Brae walks to the middle of the grass, pulls down his pants, and his underwear, and then bends down to touch his toes, bare bum high up in the air.
Mommy, walking quickly over to him, trying to act calm: “Brae, what are you doing?”
Brae: “Mommy, my bum needs some sunshine.”
3. Scene: Brae, at the coffee table, going through his preschool workbook.
Brae, talking to himself, pointing in the book: “Smallest, largest, ummm… mediust. Biggest, littlest, mediust.”
4. Brae is into storying. This means that he does not want me to read him stories anymore; he wants me to make them up in my head and tell him a story. And, in what ever story of what ever version of what ever I can possibly come up with in my head, Brae has to be a kung fu warrior.
5. Scene: Brae, at his friend’s birthday party. His friend is also adopted.
Mommy: “Brae, did you know your friend [Gabriel] is adopted, just like you? That makes you both so special.”
Brae: “You mean Gabriel came out of [birthmom]’s tummy, too?
6. Scene: In car, driving home.
Mommy: “Brae, your birthday is coming up. Are you excited?”
Brae: “Yeah, but Mommy, I don’t want to get pushed out of [birthmom]’s tummy ever again.”
Mommy: “Okay, I think that can be arranged. Can I ask why not?”
Brae (wide-eyed): “Because I didn’t like it. It was scary.”
Mommy: “Well, maybe that’s because you were born on Halloween.”