No Pants McGee and His Tiny Things

I'm quite average-sized things, thank you very much.

Uncle Matt and Aunt Michal were over a couple weeks ago. Bub lights up like the parking lot before a Phish show every time they are over; he loves showing them EVERY SINGLE THING he can do. Sometimes he shows them so much stuff that he runs out of stuff to show them. Then he has to come up with new stuff. Like this:

“I’m NO PANTS MCGEE!” 

We were innocently segueing into the bedtime routine, which includes him going into the potty and re-emerging all jammied up. Or naked as the morning is early.

We of course lost our shit. I got the same reaction last time I walked into a room with no pants on, too. Different reasons, perhaps. This of course resulted in us hearing his new moniker 87 times in a row. Then came the variants.

“I’m No Shirt McGee!” He had a good thing going here. Like any good comedian, you ride that shtick till the wheels come off. “I’m No Socks McGee!” Etc.

Anyhoo, another facet of the bedtime ritual also includes putting his tiny things away. No, his other tiny things.

What exactly are No Pants McGee's tiny things, you ask? It all started with his mini Domo, his first “machine” score. Then he threw in some random game pieces, a 4-sided die he stole from my old dice bag. The other day, a tiny eraser mysteriously joined the tiny things party. They all live inside Domo’s little half-egg and only come out when HP is sleeping. They are eclectic, they are fun, they are choking hazards. They are the tiny things.

Bub came up with that handle. Tiny things. I like it. Makes me think of Darby O’Gill. And it’s led to some pretty awesome conversations around the house:

“Daddy, have you seen my tiny things?”

“No, Bub. Seriously, I’m not looking for your tiny things again.”

“Oh, here they are. They’re on the table, Daddy!”

“Bub, please keep your tiny things off the dinner table.”

“Bub, HP can NOT have your tiny things, do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Seriously, if I see her holding your tiny things, I’m gonna put them on the big shelf again.”

“Okay.”

“We keep our tiny things to ourselves in this house.”

“Daddy, can I play with my tiny things now?”

“Sure, Bub, just don’t put them in your mouth.”

“Bub, time to put your tiny things away.”

“Why?”

“Because your sister will be awake soon, and I don’t want her to see your tiny things.”

“Daddy, you wanna play with my tiny things?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got my own.”

“Daddy, if HP sees my tiny things, she will probably try to grab them.”

“Um…”