"If the relationship of father to son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze with the glory of fathers and sons." ~James Baldwin
Sometimes I have trouble sleeping the nights before I pick up Newt. Not the bad kind of not sleeping, but the kind of not sleeping I used to get on Christmas Eve.
When I went to pick up the The Newtapotamus this weekend, I could HEAR him before I could SEE him. As I got got to the top of the steps at his Nana's house, I could hear those little feet and the THUMP THUMP THUMP of his LIGHT-UP THOMAS shoes headed for the door.
"THAT'S MY DADDY!" he hollered
Talk about a good feeling on a beautiful Saturday morning! The phrase, which he seems to use more and more, (TO HIS DADDY'S LIKING) is usually phonetically pronounced THAT'S MY DADDY!
This particular Saturday, our football team is away, so the majority of our day is spent looking at BUGS, HOLLER'N, THOMAS, random guy stuff, NAPS, and now Wonder Pets has been added to our REPERTOIRE.
Did I mention THOMAS? I was just telling someone about an epiphany I had.......
When NEWT was an infant, I used to strategically plan our day. I knew what time we would eat, I knew what time we would nap, I knew what park we would visit, and the route we would take to get there. THEN IT HIT ME.
It did not matter what we did, where we went, our when we did it. What DID matter, was that we were together. PERIOD
If I needed to go to the post office, NEWT went.....Oil change, NEWT went.....Grocery store...NEWT went.
YOU GET THE PICTURE
THAT'S MY LITTLE BOY
