First, Caleb.
Yesterday we met my friend Jane for lunch, but we were a little ahead of her. I told Caleb that we were going to beat her there. He said, "Yeah. She's a slow poke. And we're the fast poke team."
Earlier this week, I sent him to brush his teeth before bed. After a few minutes, I figured I'd better go oversee his progress. As I walked down the hall, I saw that he was busy rubbing his head with a towel. I started to lecture, saying he hadn't brushed long enough to be drying off yet. Before I could even begin, though, he looked at me with a pretty bewildered face and asked for help. He said he was trying to squeeze some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and that it got in his hair. How in the world did the toothpaste end up in his hair? Your guess is as good as mine, but sure enough...he had gobs of blue sparkles gunked all over his head.
A few weeks ago, after he woke from his nap, I spent a few minutes snuggling on the couch with him. I put my hand on his chest and felt crusties of dried 'something'. If you have any experience with boys, you know that there's absolutely no telling what that something might have been. I commented on it, saying it was yucky and we needed to wash him off. He agreed, with a worn-out sigh, "Yeah. That's from earlier when I was fighting the dragons. They slobbered on me."
And then there's Owen...
His latest and greatest antic, however, has to be his recently kindled love affair with my vacuum cleaner. Every time he hears me start it up, he comes running. He loves to hold the handle with me. He's too little to push it, but he just stands there holding it, happy as can be, while he makes a great "vvvroooomm" noise. A few days ago he discovered his favorite feature. The hose. I pulled it off to suck up something hiding back in a corner. He saw the thing and HAD to check it out. I handed it to him, fully expecting him to suction his hand or jammies, freak out and start crying. I should have realized, though, that he was more likely to explore as most babies do...with their mouths. He held the thing right up to his lips and away they went, right down the tube. He startled and got it pulled off while I braced myself for the coming tears. It must not have hurt him, though. In fact, he must have kinda liked it, because he did it again. And again. After the third time I took it away. If I didn't I probably would have wet my pants because he had me laughing so hard. I hope that his next love that results in hickies won't happen for a long, long time.
Oh, my boys! I can't even imagine how boring, tidy and un-eventful life would be without them.
2 comments:
Sarah this was hilarious! It's moments like these that make life fun and interesting and endear you to your children even more so than you thought possible it seems!
Thanks for sharing!
Sheralien
From the Slow poke to the Fast poke...your boys always make me laugh.
Jane
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