May 16, 2012

ode to my son

[a brief interlude from the sugar saga for a belated birthday ode to Lil' Snip, who just turned two]

My inimitable son  ...  when you are sweet, as Spice says, we can hardly imagine you could ever be horrid; when you are horrid, we can hardly imagine you had ever been sweet.  What do I love about you?  Let me count the ways ....

 ... your spontaneous and genuinely affectionate use of the Japanese diminutive at lunch today

... when we checked the poplar for fresh mushrooms, your interested little "mm!" over the old stubs, and your remembering little "cut!"

... how you held your dandelion to the sky with an "up!" when you heard a plane overhead

... the way you hold your hands behind your back when I am following you and your command to "cump!" - does it make you more aerodynamic?

... hearing you party in the middle of the night while appearing to be sound asleep

...  and especially hearing your adorable and adoring little voice say "Mommy.  Oh, Mommy" - well worth the 2 a.m. waking

...  your triumphant recognition of the insect on your ceiling, and your intent retelling of the incident to Nice as you crouched down to get in her face:  "stinkbug!  tissue!"

... how you can speak volumes in one word

 ... your insistence that everything is just as important as you think it is!

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