You may remember meeting my buddy Joe "the chick magnet" at a wedding some months ago. He's now a toddling 14 month old and in spite of the devil in those eyes, he is the sweetest little guy you'll ever meet.
He has to be since he is the little brother. A kid learns to go along, to get along. Joe, before he learned to utter a word, knew how to charm the birds out of the trees. His smile cures most of his problems. Works wonders. Joe's brother on the other hand...a 3 1/2 year old scamp... the Christmas goose has nothing on him. Whirling dervishes don't have the energy to keep up with this 3 year old all day. Their ears would wear out first.
Early yesterday, big bro called Mrs. T and told her, "I go to your house. We have a party" Mrs. T likes parties and refuses him nothing, so quick as a wink the boys appeared.
A marvelous party it was too. We played games, watched Sesame Street, searched for the dogs and had party treats. Who says you can't give a kid mouse cake at 9:30 AM, so long as you send them home quickly?
A marvelous party it was too. We played games, watched Sesame Street, searched for the dogs and had party treats. Who says you can't give a kid mouse cake at 9:30 AM, so long as you send them home quickly? It's a thrill a minute around here, you're invited too. Just don't call so early.
Toad
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4 comments:
Sounds like a great day.
Twas a great day, but it made me thankful that at my age I would have a difficult time having little ones around all day.
They require a great deal of stamina...stamina which we no longer have. That's why young mothers desperately need a break now and again and it was kind of you and Mrs. T to do just that for this mom.
So true and so well said, Gail.
I remarried at age 60, and promptly inherited 6 small grandchildren. [My only experience with children had been raising stepchildren, but they'd arrived fully-formed at elementary school age.]
So new husband and I started hosting periodic clan gatherings with all 6 small children + parents + matriarch in attendance.
TOTAL SHOCK. The parents would pick up a beer and go outside on the deck and I'm inside with these little hellions. What're they doing? Why're they doing that? Why do they have to punch every button and pull every lever and flip every light switch, who turned off the ceiling fans, why is the TV running? When are they leaving?
Well. I'm starting to get the hang of it now. You just play with them. Make everything into play.
-Flo
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