Boys. They ought to come standard with a cartoon bubble that hangs above their head, broadcasting to the world what it is they are thinking.
We'd all be just a bit safer, don't ya think? Or at least, a bit more prepared.
This is a really fun time with our Thomas. He is still in seventh heaven over his status as a brother to a brother. He wakes up every morning when Daniel starts making noise, gets Daniel out of the crib, then reads to him, shows him the world through their window, plays xylophone for him, sings him songs, or makes plans for the not-so-far-off someday. He has all kinds of adventures planned for the two of them.
One morning, Daniel was awake a bit earlier than usual. Thomas had several very long days under his belt and had seemed particularly tired the night before, so I tip-toed into the boys room to get Daniel up before he woke his brother. I found out that evening around the dinner table that Thomas had been saddened to wake up and not have Daniel for companionship. "I missed my brother."
My heart melted a lot. A lot, I tell you.
All of Thomas' words aren't so sweet. Some are, well...
He ran over and hugged me one afternoon recently. Then he ran over and hugged his Daddy, and then back over to me again. He hugged tightly and looked up with love and awe in his expression...
"Daddy's fatter than you, but your older."
For my part, I'm glad that it takes up more of his arm span to reach around his Daddy than it does to reach around me. On the flip side, I'd like to box his ears a little each time he reminds me of the whole five months between Joshua and I. His Daddy gets a smug kick out of it.
But the best is not sweet, nor sassy. It's totally silly.
Joshua and I were talking to Thomas and we were all cutting up. I lightly conked him on the head and remarked about how hard his head is. He jumped up from his place between his Daddy and me, ran around to Joshua's side of the couch and said "Let's see how hard my head really is!"
This is where that bubble would have been really helpful, y'all.
He intentionally head-butted his dad's head, creating a thud that reverberated soundly in my chest, from four feet away. And the kid cackled like it was hilarious. He rubbed his head and giggled. We laughed, too. At least I did. I laughed so hard I cried.
We calmed down and sent Thomas on to bed. As soon as the kid was out of ear shot, Joshua moaned and rubbed his head. I think he might have suffered a mild concussion...