I'm a turtle! I'm a turtle!

We went to eat at Taco Bell after tball practice. Preston had been complaining of a stomach ache I was sure was hunger, but turned out to be gas. I was just relieved he didn't announce it to the restaurant. This time. Anyway, this is relevant, because his mood AFTER he felt better was about as silly as silly gets. At one point, he was dancing in his chair to the groovy 70's music playing. I'd describe it, but I couldn't do it justice.

He's been boogying in his seat for about 10 minutes when we're ready to go, so it's no surprise that he's dancing his way out the door. As Albert and I stop to throw away our trash, I notice he's standing at the front door, still dancing. That moment is about the time he breaks into a spin, drops to the floor, lays on his side with knees bent at a 90-degree angle, and alternates kicking his legs back and forth, al la "So You Think You Can Dance" intro-break dancing style. He then flips onto his stomach and is doing some sort of "snow angel-on-your-stomach" rendition. That's when Albert turns, and Preston looks up and realizes that we're both standing in the doorway of Taco Bell staring at him with incredulous faces.

You'd think he'd be embarrassed, stop, and stand up. No. No, not my child. MY child smiles this huge smile, and hams it up even more by yelling "I'm a turtle! I'm a turtle!" while flagrantly waving his arms and legs up and down. For at least 15 seconds. Ignoring the frantic "get UP off the floor" instructions, and feeding off the muffled laughter Albert and I are so desperately trying to contain. Because, you know, laying on the floor in Taco Bell and break dancing are some of those things that parent's are supposed to take seriously.

I asked him if he'd show me his turtle again when we got home, so I could sneak a picture for the site, but we forgot.