Every day I say something to Gabe that I never thought I would. I’ve said that header (okay — minus the pony part) all week, every five minutes. Some of my favorites from the week:
“No, baby that’s an ornament. And for crying out loud get it off of your lip.”
“Yeah, that is a puppy! Wait! Don’t punch th–… damnit.”
“You break that arm, you buy it.”
He’s wild, guys. In all honesty, I’d rather have my maniacal little guy than a prissy little girl. But sometimes it’s a little tiring. Okay… it’s exhausting. Recently we’ve discovered that we can stick things in our ears & nostrils… namely crayons & peas (the peas freaked me out more than the crayon… not even gonna lie). Used to I could deliver a possessed growl like none other and he would remove whatever inanimate object was in whatever orifice. But today I growled my fiercest Emily Rose growl & the little bugger laughed. LAUGHED. At my growl. I’ll be honest — it knocked me down a few notches. Then he proceeded to stick macaroni yellow next to cornflower blue… and I got PISSED. Irrational? Absolutely. But lets just say he won’t be allowed to even look at another crayon until he’s thirty. Five.
He’s been awesome this week, though… crayons aside. I think someone sent him a memo (a little late, albeit) letting him know that Santa’s been watching. But I’ll have you know that Santa’s informants suck, ’cause the kid’s got more coming to him then should be allowed. That’s okay though, ’cause said informant got momma a six-pack of Light Heineken (what Santa don’t know won’t kill him.. don’t judge me).
Right now I’m listening to the off-key musical stylings of Veggie Tales and then we’re going to read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (3rd annual read — yay traditions!). We’ll be hitting the sack soon… well, Gabe will. Momma’s got some more wrapping to do. Word up for procrastination!
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Bud Light!