Contradictions.

So.  Henry brought home his first school library book last week. 

We weren't there to guide him. Or influence his choice of literature (like we are at Barnes and Noble - when he wants to choose some random Scooby Doo number - or any book that makes noise and has no educational value). 

And this is what he comes home with.

In case you can't read that title, let me get you a better shot of it.

Uh, what?

Okay, I get that he's David Seward's son.  So this makes a little sense.  But...what?

I feel the need to take an aspirin.

And then he was eating a fudgesicle at the dinner table the other night and he looked like this.

With my untrained eye, I'd take him for a young-looking 11 year-old here. 

I'll say it again.  Uh, what? 

Where's my five year-old?

Sigh. Oddly enough, my saving grace at this juncture turns out to be that stench-ridden dog of blue origin. 

Because, for all the times I get slightly panicked that he's growing up and away from me, he still always comes home to blue dog.

Seriously. Thank goodness for that damn dog.