You my best friend, mommy. My best friend, right Mommy?
He was saying to me as he wrapped his chubby little arms around my neck pulling me down in a big hug as I tucked him in to bed last night.
Ahhh….my heart….there it goes – a big pile of mush on the floor. That he said those same words to my husband and also to his nanny does not matter one little bit. At that moment, I was his best friend.
He is, without a doubt, the cutest boy I have ever met. His exchanging the ‘TH’ sound for ‘f’ only makes him more adorable. “You firsty mama? You firsty?” or “Fank you!” as I hand him his cup of juice. He tries so hard to get that ‘th’ sound.
“Mama, somefings on my mouf…ff….fff…” he keeps trying to spit out that last sound. Adorable. Absolutely. He slays me daily.
When we have company over for dinner, ever the perfect little host he lifts his hand to the guest, tilts his head and asks “You like it? You like it? You love it?”
“Lets pray” he says, folding his hands at the dinner table. “Fank you Jesus…mumble mumble….Amen!”
“You wanna play toys with me?” he asks taking my hand to bring me to his toy basket. “Come on! Let’s play toys!”
He loves to hold hands. If we’re going somewhere together, we’re going hand in hand. His little hand fits so trustingly in my bigger one. Up the stairs, down the stairs, down the hall, into the washroom. Wherever.
He loves to look and books and has a few memorized already – most notably The Hungry Caterpillar. “He still hungry!?” M looks at me wonderingly like how could this caterpillar be still hungry after four plums.
He loves to share when he farts. And if asked, “M did you fart?” “Yup! Me did!” he happily admits. Or if on the rare chance it was someone else “Nope! Me didn’t!”
When he has something to show me he says “Come on! You show me!”
And of course, just like any man, always looking for a congratulations on a job well done. Or “Me big helper, right? Big Helper.” or
“Me big boy, right, Mommy? Me big boy. You big boy, too, Mommy.” At least he’s willing to return the praise, right?!
He’s at my mom and dad’s this week. And I miss him. Like CRAZY. So does Miss H. She started crying yesterday evening. I guess it was just too quiet without the little man. She kept saying how much she missed his help when setting the table, never mind that just yesterday she was tempted to brain the poor boy for keeping on getting in her way. Oh wait, that was me.
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