We recently got a Curious George book from the library. It’s one of the old ones, so George even smokes a pipe in it (the HORROR). I got to thinking as we were reading this book tonight before bed. I’ve always loved Curious George, especially since Miles came along and fell in love with him too. I realized tonight that I get such a kick out of George because he’s the monkey version of my son. The books and show on PBS always open with, “George is a good little monkey, and he’s VERY, very curious.” I love it that this repetitive statement makes sure to point out that George is good, even if he gets in lots of trouble. Because the endearing thing about George is that he is so good and sweet, you just can’t be mad at him.
He is the most curious child I have ever known. He notices everything that’s new to him and desperately needs to know how everything works. He is compelled to know, and will not give up, until he figures out every which way something might be used. This actually bodes quite well for his creativity and imagination. I’ll never forget his eighteen month appointment at the pediatrician, when he went over to the exam table and undid the stirrups, laying them on the ground. The doctor’s mouth dropped open and she said he was the most coordinated little guy she had ever seen at that age. What I couldn’t believe was that he would feel the need to take the friggin‘ stirrups off the table! That’s just who he is though, so busy and curious, he just has to take things apart to look at how they work. He just has to open things up and see what’s inside. He just has to try coloring on any surface to see what it will look like. He just has to know WHY. He just has to touch everything that he’s never touched before, even if it looks real yucky, just to know what it feels like. He just has to see if things will fit up his nose… 














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Miles is swell! I heart him!