Living in a house full of stinky old boys can corrupt even the sweetest soul.

Take, for example, my delicious little Reid, who just turned five. He’s a sweet little darling…but I can already see the signs that he is turning to the dark side.

Today we had the twin boys who carpool with us over to play after school. The three little guys hopped out of the van and came tearing inside, heading for the basement and the bounty of toys and video games therein. Reid got to the basement door first and pulled it open. Then he turned, smirked and, with an elaborate flourish of his hand, exclaimed, “Ladies first!”

Recently, we were offered an opportunity to get a battery of neurological and developmental testing done on our three-year-old son, Reid. A neonatal group affiliated with the hospital where he was born is doing a study which compares the development of “term” babies with that of their prematurely born counterparts. So they contacted us, as parents of one of those term babies, to see whether they could use Reid as part of their control group.

Never one to turn down anything free, especially if it is worth hundreds of dollars, we jumped at the chance for him to participate.

Obviously, I didn’t want Reid to be scared about this experience. So I did my best to prepare him for what it would be like, how he’d have to leave Mommy and go in another room, but I would be right there in the building. I didn’t really know what the testing itself would be like, except that it was described as “game-type” evaluations. So I explained to Reid that would play games and show the “lady” how well he could talk.

I know that word-association games are often used when testing young children. So I used that as an example for Reid. For days before the exam, we played. I would say, “Car” and he would respond, “Drive.” I’d throw out “Sandwich” and he’d respond, “Eat.” I said “Dog” and, quick as could be, he’d react with, “Woof.” I couldn’t believe how good he was. We’d sit and play with eight-year-old Mack, and Reid was usually quicker than his big brother.

So the day of the evaluation came. We drove the 45 minutes to the office and waited for our turn. The tester came to take Reid and he was chattering at her all the way down the hallway, “We’re going to do testing. I get to do it because I am three. Can I hold your hand?” I thought, “Oh, he is so going to ace this.”

The testing took about 90 minutes, most of which I spent filling out the 47 different forms they gave me. Let me tell you how fun that was. First was the form where I had to supply the various ages at which Reid met different developmental milestones – sitting up, standing, walking, saying 2-3 words together, etc. Well, I could remember perfectly all the ages where my first-born did those things, and some of the ages for Aidan, my middle child. But, for Reid, I felt like every answer could have been, “Somewhere between five months and 35 months.” I know its a cliché that we don’t allow our subsequent children to astonish us the way the first one does, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

Then came the forms where we had to answer questions about our own parenting, how happy we are doing it and how well we think we are performing. Reading the statement, “I feel that I am being the best parent I can be to my child” and realizing that my answer was either “somewhat agree” or “somewhat disagree” is seriously eye-opening.

Finally were the forms where we had to evaluate our child’s development and behavior….also known as the forms with ridiculous questions. Remember, this study is for three year olds. So who is going to answer “never” to the question, “Does your child ever whine?” Or “Does your child have difficulty waiting his turn?” Or my favorite, “Does your child become overly frustrated when faced with what is only a small obstacle?” (Here is when I was glad that I was filling out the form about Reid, not about me.)

At the end of the final form, it asked me whether I thought my child’s intelligence was A) Very low, B) Somewhat below average, C) Somewhat above average or D) Superior. I thought for a minute, and almost went with C. Then I remembered how quickly my little star mastered word association, and I circled D. (We also had to assess the intelligence of the child’s mother and father. I’ll keep those answers to myself.)

Finally, Reid came out of the room. He had a sticker and a lollipop and was ready to go. We were told we’d get the results in about six weeks. On the way out to the car, I asked Reid, “Did you play the game where the lady says a word, and then you say a word?” He replied, “Yes.” “Awesome,” I thought. I knew it.

“Can you think of a word she said?” “Dog.” “Oh, that’s one of the ones we did! What did you say back?”

“Dog.”

“She said ‘Dog’ and then you just said ‘Dog’ back?” “Uh huh.”

I should have gone with C. Or maybe B.