Owl Jr. is a thoughtful little three year old. The sort who will stare at his train or his Lightning McQueen while making engines sounds of questionable veracity. Or stand by the sink,pushing his Thomas Train through the slowly trickling water for what seems like hours.
A rich inner life.
He's also his own little boy. Pugnacity, iron will, steely determination are not whimsical descriptions when he has his mind set.
"Owl Jr, finish your mac and cheese,and then you can have this caramel popcorn"
"Come on Owl Jr. All this popcorn, you know you like it."
"I don't want it."
"I'm going to eat it. It looks soo delicious" (this is a standard tactic at which Owlet would break Kenmore on day 366 of it's 1 year warranty)
"Ok. Eat it."
"Eat it. Eat popcorn."
I look with not a small amount of uncertainty at the pile of multi-coloured .. bits.. of.. what I'm assured use to be organic matter.
"Eat the blue one."
I eat it. Looking at him carefully. He nods in approval.
"Now the red one..."
It goes on like this until I've finished it. At which point he says, "Can I play now?"
I think he spends all that quiet time scheming, to be honest.