"Ma, want to see my moves?"
For five minutes, across the living room floor, Miles showed his self-taught martial art kicks and spins. His guttural "hyah"s were all well timed, but in my ears he sounded like a cowboy on a cattle run. Occasionally he'd pepper his presentation with a Batman-like Pow! or a Take That!
It was bedtime, so I ushered him up the stairs toward the bathroom. He continued his demonstration in the hallway while I squeezed toothpaste on our brushes.
Finally, with a hand on his heart, he approached our bathroom sink.
"Ma, I can feel my heart knocking!"
We borrowed a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles DVD from the library this week. I'll be looking into what the town offers for kiddy karate tomorrow.