I'm watching my 9-year old son naked with a large towel around his head, trying to twirl it around and as high as possible. It's so ridiculously funny, I can't stop laughing. He is so skinny, and his bony limbs are totally un-synchronized, I think he might just hit his head on the sink and knock himself out. Yet he keeps calling out to me to watch and see just how high the stupid towel will go. He barely gets it to swing from right to left and then makes this grunting sound and circles his head in a big sweep. Nothing. The towel barely moves. He's now trying it again... same result.
I wish I could take a photo of him to upload, but I'm not sure it would be entirely appropriate. Is there some kind of limit for that?
He's now gone to his room right outside the bathroom door, in search for underwear via the kitchen at the opposite end of the house. Meanwhile, our t-cup Yorkie snuck into the bathroom and left with a dirty sock in her mouth. She proudly pranced somewhere, and I'm sure on the way she'll run into the naked boy in search for underwear. Wait, I just heard him say "YES!"...
As usual, I found him, but before I saw his nakedness, he figured out how to get his underwear on by going around the other side of the house. Unfortunately for my seriousness, he had them pulled up to his chest, always a funny visual. "Mommy, I'm on the second level!" Not sure of what, but I'm excited for him. I then asked him to get dressed (I'm thinking jammies, it's now 9pm) and off he goes. He comes back wearing his suit pants, no shirt. While smiling at me, he pulls the zipper up and I say "Baby, jammy pants, it's bedtime!". Smile turned to surprise, "Oh!" and he ran to the bedroom.
Now, I know when I get there, he'll still be in his suit pants. And I'll have to get stern and go through the usual "why don't you do what I ask?" routine, when all I want is to kiss his cheeks and eat him alive for being so fucking cute. Sigh... they kill me.
No comments:
Post a Comment