So, Scorch has been 6 for roughly 3/4th of the year- and of 90% of that time, I’ve loved 6. 6 still wants to hold your hand and is funny as all get out. 6 is sweet and helpful and so eager to learn everything. 6 begs for chore charts so he can earn money to buy things. 6 doesn’t really throw fits anymore and is willing to go with the flow. 6 loves to tell a good joke and is more then obsessed with Star Wars. 6 frequently gets side tracked by books and legos and other shiny things when all you want him to do is get dressed, for crying out loud. But 6 is so funny about being redirected, you really don’t mind.
What 6 stinks at is taking responsibility for himself.
Take for instance, this afternoon. Scorch climbed up on the kitchen while I was doing laundry. When I came back upstairs I made him get down- and, in doing so, he pulled some papers off the counter. Not a big deal at all- but I told him to pick them up. He told me the papers falling wasn’t his fault, it was my fault because I made him get down.
All right then.
Or how about the time he slipped and fell on a puzzle piece that he and the Bean were working on. He slipped after I told him twice to watch out and pick that up before he got hurt. The fall- my fault because I didn’t yell at him and make him pick it up.
Perhaps that little personality trait comes at 7.
Please tell me it comes at age 7.