The Apple of My Eye
I’ve been meaning to write a little ode to our son—I’ve been
meaning to do it for a while now. But today, it had to happen. It had to happen
because of this:
Driving home from school, we were talking about the upcoming
long weekend and how, on Labor Day, we celebrate people who work.
I work from home, mostly when the kids aren’t around, so logically,
Little A. says, “Like Daddy.”
“That’s right.” Easy, reflexive mom response.
Little A. gets his “deep thoughts” face on. “There’s a song
on Schoolhouse Rock that celebrates dads…for writing down all the principals’
names.”
?????
I have no resp—OMG,
OMG, wait! Does he mean…?
“Do you mean it celebrates the founding fathers for writing
down the principles that guide our country?”
Little A. gives me his “duh” voice. “Yeah.”
<SNORT>
Little A. gives me his offended voice. “That’s not funny.”
“No, you’re right, sweetie. It’s not. It sure is a tricky
song, though.” And we proceeded to talk about founding fathers and principles.
And he proceeded to say…
“I KNEW all that.”
Yes, our son is a volatile combination of philosopher and
wrecking ball. He thinks deep thoughts and takes things apart to see how they
work. He puts his hands on everything, misses the toilet, and keeps up with two
adults and a nine-year-old in the humor department.
He’s passionate about anatomy, volcanoes, dinosaurs,
vehicles, insects, constructions—really, just about anything that works. If it’s got a “how” to it, he
wants to know. He’s physically fearless, as well as agile enough that most of
our “watch out—you’ll hurt yourself” warnings fall on deaf ears. He’s addicted
to mud puddles and chocolate.
He can put together Lego sets with hundreds of pieces
without needing help—and then he cheerfully takes them apart, mixes them with
other Legos, and generally loses them in the mess of his room.
He hates to make mistakes and loves to be hugged—when he’s
in the mood. His easygoing except when he’s not—or when he’s hungry.
But he’s our boy and we love him!
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