This is what we do aaalllll daayyy. But he's so darned sweet about asking! "Jump? Monna? Jump? Pease?" And even if I attempt to say no, he still crawls onto my lap, lays on his back, and waits for me to give in. He's gotten a haircut since these pictures were taken. He looks so grown up now! He was really good, too. We go to a place that is more expensive, but they let the kids sit in pretend cars and watch movies while they get their hair cut. Brilliant! I had to hold his hands, but otherwise no fussing!
"Da fighder!" I have no idea what he is saying or why, but every time he picks up a fork, spoon, long cardboard tube from wrapping paper, or even a straw, he holds it out and says, "Fighder!" My cousin, also FX, loves wooden spoons. So the fact that Punkin found this in Oma's kitchen and took to it right away really isn't surprising. In fact, I kind of like it because it reminds me of family. Sometimes I wish I knew what he was thinking, but then it occurred to me: If I knew what he was thinking all the time, would I still be so interested? If there was no mystery, would I be fascinated?