he woke up from a long afternoon nap with funny sunburn lines and a few new freckles. it was nearly dinner time and i'd actually prepared something, but his tiny voice asking for cereal for no other reason than he was thinking about it pulled at strings.
i don't always give in to these tiny requests. tookie? no son, you can't have a cookie right now. fwies? no son, we aren't eating fries today. peetda? unfortunately ez boy, we won't be having pizza for dinner. (and hells bells change your requests! i swear i'm raising you better, right? says the delusional woman called mom.)
maybe it was how he tilted his head to the side and looked up through his long lashes.
maybe it was the sunscreen'd bedhead hair.
maybe it was how we managed to escape a standing crib-poop mid diaper change and make it a successful toilet trip.
maybe it was the way he danced when we flushed and waved "bye poop!"
maybe it was the way he yelled "weedo?" as he looked for his dog.
maybe it was the circle lips when he yelled "oh!" as his arms shook by his side in excitement.
maybe i was feeling tired of saying no.
or maybe i wanted him to know i listened when he spoke.
but i said yes.
and we sat on the front porch sharing a bowl of brown sugar'd squares as he told me about his day.
fwend gus. owwwn car. mommy's car. seazy's home. dump! dirty ew. showel (shovel.) water. swing weee! nigh nigh. cereal. poon? daddy? choo choo! my mail. pway fwends?
it was really great.
and the cereal wasn't too bad either.