James has been on the planet for 1870 days! He’s grown up so much that sometimes I forget how large chunks of his day-to-day experience are in fact shiny like a new penny.
Last night I asked him if you added two fingers to three fingers what would you get. The answer was a prompt and confident five. He solemnly asked me if that was mathematics.
We also chatted about how knee caps protect, well your knee joint thingamagigs. He asked me if elbow caps did the same.
Tonight he asked me if God was real. As I did with the “did you milk me from your nips” question, I hesitated a second. That is kind of a big concept after all. However, I noticed that he was also pointing to the TV. We were watching How to Train Your Dragon for the gagilionth and tenth time, and Toothless was eating fish. My answer was “yes baby, Cod are real.”
All this growing up too fast business is punctuated with moments that remind me that he is indeed, still my baby. Every inch of his body is ticklish, and tickling him usually makes him laugh so hard that his nose runs. The simple pleasure of jumping repeatedly on dad, keeps him happy for a good 30 to 40 minutes.
Please is still pwease, a sucker is still a yelly pop, love is wuv. He may be able to work remotes like a pro, but when a bottom needs wiping, his arm is frequently too tired to start or finish the job. Movies are magical, and Santa is real.
Happy 1870th day son. Woot!