- The way you eat waffles in the morning. YOU have the be the one to get them out of the package. You then take a big bite of the frozen waffle, despite how many times I tell you that it is 1) weird 2) probably not great for your teeth. YOU then put the waffles in the toaster and push it down.
- "Make mommy's coffee." You sit on the counter and proudly help make my coffee each morning. Two of my favorite things merged together. If you had it your way, I'd have 5 cups a day.
- Your love of strangers. We were walking out of the restaurant the other night and you approached several patrons and said "High five." It came out clear as day to me but they looked at you strangely until you raised up your hand to show them what you meant.
- Your coping mechanisms. Your thumb and your hair are firmly attached to your body and that's what you use to soothe yourself. I joke that its because you know that your parents aren't responsible enough to keep up with a pacifier and lovey.
- Your sensitively. Most kids like getting their boo-boos kissed by their moms, that's nothing original. But you want to make other people's boo-boos better by kissing them, and your clumsy mother is often the recipient. Once, when you were yelling inside the house, I told you that it hurt my ears. So of course you responded, "Kiss it" and leaned up to kiss my ears.
- Your love of sports. Your preschool teacher was helping you make a Halloween craft the other day and she said, "Look Brady, it's a bat." She told me you jumped up, pretended like you were swinging a bat and started throwing out baseball terminology. Perhaps we need to expand your horizons.
- "Eat time" - that's what you call your meals. It's cute, but when we hear it during the 6 o'clock hour its less endearing. Your father pretends not to hear it sometimes and turns on the TV to distract you. It sometimes works.
- Your love of hair. I'm sure your future wife will have lovely locks because hair is your thing. You love to twirl it...mine, yours, or any strangers within arm's length. It's cute when you reach for Jackson's, whose hair isn't twirlable yet. Which leads me to...
- Your love of your brother. Pictures tell a better story than I can.


Love these boys.


No comments:
Post a Comment