Friday, May 30, 2008

How To Know Your Son is Really Your Flesh and Blood

After a day in which he melted down because he wanted his oatmeal cold, then hot, and then not at all; in which he wrote on your linen shirt with black and blue markers not once, but twice; in which he broke objects on your desk at work beyond repair; in which he screamed loud enough to make your face melt like Dietrich's in Raiders of the Lost Ark because you put a spoon in his yogurt and applesauce and that mixed the two together; in which he stuck his stick in your fledgling tomato plants right after you asked him to stay away from them; and in which pounced on you right as you were falling asleep for a nap on the couch, you forgive and forget all when your son sits in your lap, snuggles down, and asks you to read him a story while looking up with those big blue eyes and smiling.

3 comments:

david d. mcintire said...

Gosh, I thought only MY son did stuff like that... I feel much better.

Andrew said...

And I didn't even mention the best part. After his nap yesterday, his bottom was itching, so he stuck his hand in his diaper, pulled out some poop and, intrigued, proceeded to paint his arms, leg, and face before we caught him tasting a bit of it. This after yesterday morning when he decided his legs needed polka dots (and my shirt lines, evidently). The entertainment never ends, does it?

jeanetta said...

your a better person than i am.