Monday, May 28, 2012

On the Subject of Cowboys...

When Son #1 was three, he attended day care.  One day, the facility rented a horse for professional pictures.  All parents were told to dress their child in cowboy clothing for picture day.  Sadly, Son #1 had clothing technical difficulties.  Son #1 does not own any western wear and never has but he DOES own Dallas Cowboy apparel.  So on that fine morning, Son #1 picked out his Tony Romo jersey and proudly marched into his classroom.

During the lesson, the teacher taught the children about cowboys, horses, and their clothing.  She pointed out children that were dressed in their best western apparel and labeled them as cowboys.  Son #1 pointed to his Dallas Cowboy jersey and proclaimed.  "I'm a Cowboy too!" 

Just as the teacher was going to correct him, she looked at his shirt and smiled.  "You ARE a Cowboy!"  She exclaimed.

That's right baby!  Son #1 is the best kind of Cowboy!

When I Grow Up...

Son #1 was watching a cute cartoon about cowboys.  He turned to my husband and said.  "When I grow up, I want to be a cowboy."

To this, my husband replied.  "You were born in Texas so you're already a cowboy.  All you need is a horse."

Son #1 thought this over carefully and then responded.  "When I grow up, I want to be a race car driver."

My husband queried.  "I thought you wanted to be a cowboy."

Son #1 quickly replied.  "I do!  And then when I get done with the horse thing, I want to race cars."

You can't go wrong when you know what you want to do.  Son #1, you be that cowboy/race car driver!

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

I'm Healed!

Son #1 got Cars 2 band aids at the local Walgreens yesterday.  He was so excited about the cute band aids and proudly showed me his minuscule scratch protected by his prize.  I oohed and ahhed an appropriate amount of time and then made my way to the kitchen to start cooking our dinner. 

Son #1 played happily in the living room until he bumped his finger on the coffee table.  He came to me cradling his finger and said.  "Mama, I need a band aid.  Look!  I cut myself."

I looked down and saw nothing but replied.  "Oh, that is terrible.  Hmmm.  Let me get you a band aid but first we'll have to cut it off."

Son #1 looked at me incredulously.  "Noooo."  He laughed nervously.  "You can't cut it off."

"But we will need to do surgery on it before the band aid goes on."  I said as I prepared the butter knife for the procedure.

Son #1 assessed his finger and the situation.  "I think I'm better now.  I don't need a band aid anymore."

"I'm glad to see that your finger is healed."  I smiled mischievously to myself.

It is amazing how the threat of surgery with a butter knife miraculously heals all minor wounds.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Baby Song

Son #2 had just finished a bottle and was casually laying back on his boppie.  I laid on the floor beside him and played with his little hands and feet.  We conversed in baby talk.  He smiled, cooed, and kicked his feet.  Then he broke out in to baby song. 

The song was a loud, non melodic growl that continued on at various pitches and decibels.  He cheerfully sang to his heart's content while gazing up at the ceiling and then at me.  I sat in wonder but did not move for the camera for fear that he would stop his serenade. 

Son #2 sang nonstop for ten minutes.  Then his eyes began to close ever so slightly.  Mid song he fell silent as his head drop to the side.  His song was done.  Now only snoring could be heard.