this post is dedicated to the gaffer:
on friday morning, he was standing on the bed, and he took my sweater in his hands and pulled me close and said 'mommy, you're pretty.'
later that afternoon he took my face in his hands and said, 'don't worry mommy.'
on saturday morning in the car, he said, 'i'm pretty', and i said, 'what's mommy?' and he said 'mommy's beautiful.' and i asked, 'what's daddy?' and he said without pause, 'daddy's hungry!'
yesterday while i was in the kitchen, he told me he was going upstairs to get something. i said, ok, becareful. and he came up to me and said 'mommy, you wait right here. 5 minutes. i'll be right back. don't worry love. don't be bad. don't be sad. you wait here. 5 minutes mommy.' and up he went.
this morning while i was in the washroom, he came in, opened the cupboard door and ripped off a small piece of toilet paper from a new roll. then he turned around and tried to shove me off the toilet so he could throw his piece of paper in...
1 comment:
You know, that age has some of the most frustrating times and some of the absolute best times.
Treasure them. (the good ones. forget the other ones.)
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