Last summer when we went to Disney, Ryan desperately wanted this back scratcher. In my effort to keep at least some of my money in my bank account I refused him and assumed that he would quickly forget all about it like he forgot about everything else he asked for. Besides, it doesn't really scratch your back, more like rubs it because his "fingers" are really smooth. This was lost on a child who turned five that week.
Oh how wrong I was. Sometimes being practical is not helpful. Every night when he goes to bed he gets back out saying, "My back is itchy. If you had gotten me that back scratcher from Disney that I wanted then I could scratch it myself, but now I guess Daddy will have to do it. "
Aunt Julie went to Disney over Thanksgiving, so in an effort to kill two birds with one stone, that being a stocking stuffer and to keep him in bed, I asked her if she would pick it up while she was down there.
Tonight he tried to scratch his own back but he could not reach the bottom with his new tool. He got back out of bed and said, "Maybe Daddy can help me with this."
I wasn't really surprised. Exasperated, but not surprised. Thank you Aunt Julie!
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