"Can you see it now Mom?"

Turner sits on the bottom stair and wants to be carried to the top. I laugh and respectfully decline. He persists. After a few false starts we make it almost to the top. Turner says, "Don't worry Mom. We're almost there. We can do it." Once his feet are on the ground he says, "Whew. Thank you Mom" like he was all exhausted.

We get to his room and I realize LaLa Bear is downstairs. I ask Turner to do bathroom duties and I secure the bear. I come upstairs and sit in his bed while he struts around the bathroom doing anything but use it. I offer a warning. He does his duties. He works on getting his underwear just right for nearly a minute, and then steps onto the stool to wash his hands. Instead of turning the water on, he places his forehead on his arms and heaves another exhausted sigh.

To distract him from his fatigue, I say, "I see a tushi."

His face turns to mine, and he smiles. He returns to the mirror, moves his torso two inches to the left, arms stretched across the bathroom counter, toes barely hanging on to the Lightning McQueen stool. "Can you see it now Mom?" He slips slightly deeper in his lunge. "Can you?" I giggle. Thinking, I must remember to blog about this. 

He turns around, chin barely looking over his shoulder. He smiles big. In a moment he is humming. Then he flips the faucet on, rights his torso, and sings quietly, "tushi, tushi, tushi, it's a wooshi." 

Rhyming patterns are big right now.

An hour earlier:

Turner and I have dance, dance fever in the kitchen while our cake bakes (yes. I know I have other work to do. [It is a cake for the teachers at Turner's school.]). We listen to a few Outkast songs and Turner does some moves that he called "tushi, tushi" and what the rest of us would call break dancing. He was spinning on the floor on his back with his legs in the air. Perhaps it is a ninja turtle move.