The Little Things

Today was just the kind of day my boys like: We left the house. And visited people. And ate in a “westawant” (er… it was really a cafeteria in a senior living facility, but close enough.) They got to run laps around a friend’s house. And stick their hands in dirt. And clean up crumbs with a broom. And carry around big sticks. They got to run in long hallways. (While I winced and prayed that they didn’t knock over any elderly people.) They got to pet a cute little dog. They got to take a bath. (We… um… don’t do baths nearly often enough, so they’re still a big deal: “Do you want to take a bath, boys?”)

For two- and three-year-olds, it really is the little things that bring joy.

By the end of the day, the most vivid image in our two-year-old’s mind must have been petting Toby the dog, a cute little guy belonging to one of the elderly gentlemen at my great-aunt’s retirement home. My boy spent a puzzling few minutes insisting that he was “Dopey” before I recalled the pup and realized he was trying to say “Toby.” Thereafter, he refused to answer to anything else and crawled around on the floor, yipping.

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Meanwhile, our three-year-old came out with a series of funnies today that I thought I’d share with you in lieu of my more thoughtful post on prison sentences. (Not kidding. Hmm… which should I post at 11:00 pm when I’m more than a little foggy-brained? Prison sentences: punishment vs rehabilitation or… cute kid quotes? I’ve got to go with the latter.) Stay tuned for prison talk tomorrow.

This morning as we drove toward our first destination, my boy said: “Wook, Mommy! A ammal shelter! A ammal shelter house! Dats where ammals wiv.” Then, predictably: “I want a dog.”

After I explained to him (not for the first time) that dogs are a lot of work, like babies, and we’re about to have a baby, so it’s not a good time to get a dog… he gasped and said: “I know! We can get a dog after da baby’s born!”

As I was describing to the boys whose house we were driving to and I told them that it was Miss Mary’s house, but not his little friend E.G.’s mommy Miss Mary’s house, he asked: “Is it da Mary dat has a baby Jesus?”

As we were leaving Mary’s house, which he had earlier been told was a “magic house” (for a reason that made sense at the time, though I can’t currently remember what it was), he said: “I had fun at da magic house, Mommy. I haffa tell Gwanma an Gwampa dat I went to a magic house yesserday!”

Walking away (really, floating on air) from Toby the dog, whom the boys had just been permitted to pet for a couple of minutes: “Toby wiked me, Mommy! He’s da best dog in da whole world. Toby is so cute! I want a dog.”

Telling his father about his day: “We got to see Miss Mary’s gardens! Where she has vetchtables! Did you know you can eat vetchtables?”

And… I can no longer keep my eyes open. So I’d better sign off now. See you tomorrow for Day 2 of Jen’s 7 Posts in 7 Days challenge!

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3 thoughts on “The Little Things

  1. I love that my house was the “magic house”. We called it that because B and J “magically made their blueberry muffins disappear. LOL! I love it. I promise when the “vechetables” pop up, you guys will have to come back so they can pick them. It was a great day. Thanks for coming.

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