I live with the boy and even I have a hard time reconciling this sweet little boy sleeping with the child who peed on his brother not 24 hours ago.
How can someone melt your heart with a "I wuv you, Dad" one minute turn around and break 7 Christmas ornaments you've had since you were 5 in the time it takes you to change the channel on the television?
This morning while I waited in line to drop Trot off at school and he fiddled with every knob and button on my radio I had an epiphany. And no, I didn't have to google that to figure out what it meant.
Ok, I did but that's beside the point. Ange and I have been wondering how we can describe Trot to everyone who hasn't met him yet and it all sort of hit me upside the head while I listened to him ask me "What does this one do?" for the 785th time.
(I'd like to apologize to Rakes at this moment. Buddy, I know you can't read yet but one day you will. And it's true; Your Dad thought you were going to be the epitome of "boys will be boys". Son, you are an Angel.)
This, in a nutshell, is Trot.
If you're looking for me I'll be spending all my free time for the foreseeable future trying to figure out how I can keep him from urinating.I gotta say; this isn't how I envisioned my 40's playing out.
9 comments:
And that is why you're the best RSD blogger. That is classic!!!!! What a corollary between the two!!!! Classic!!!
Thanks, Mattie. And thank your lucky starts you have girls. ;)
I think you're supposed to avoid getting those wet, aren't you...? ;-)
Dawn, he didn't get HIMSELF wet. He got his brother wet. ;)
The kid has style and a flair for the dramatic.
The teen years should be a blast.
Yeah. A blast. And what in the world can you be doing at 2:22 in the morning?
Gamers don't sleep my friend. We just wait.
You need help, Jr.
I don't even hear the so called drummer.
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