Vanity, thy name is Max

Max has picked up an interesting habit, and it is called peering at himself in every reflective surface around.

This mostly has to do with his fondness for his new firefighter hat, which Dave handily labeled Fireman Max. But he also wants to make sure his hair is tucked out of the way, which is the way he likes it. The other morning, he made Dave put in some gel. I also think he may have noticed he is cute.

Checking himself out in the napkin holder reflection

Then he wanted to borrow my compact mirror

Vending machine reflection on the wall, who's the fairest one of all? 

I'm da man!

Max hasn't seemed to care that much about his looks one way or the other until now. Maybe that's just a boy thing; one of Sabrina's favorite hobbies is to gaze at her hair in the bathroom mirror. We've had assorted mirrors around the house for Max since he was a baby. Therapists thought they would help him with self-awareness, and motivate him to move his body around.

In recent years, we've thought mirrors might encourage him to notice the drooling, which doesn't seem to bother him. (Although he has told me that when he is a firefighter, he won't drool anymore.) The other day I watched him stare into a mirror in a bathroom and fix his firefighter hat just so. He noticed drool and wiped it. I wanted to squeal, but he can't stand when I do that, so I squeed silently.

Max's newfound self admiration is fascinating to me. I've always thought he's beyond adorable, because I'm subjective that way. I'm glad he's finally noticed. But if he asks to borrow the car to go cruising for girls, I'm saying no.