Thursday, February 05, 2009

Story time

Buddance and I had the following conversion today as I was giving him lunch:

Me: What would you like to eat? An orange or a banana?*

Bud: AAARRRNNNNNNEE! (Translation: orange!)

Me: (Super high silly voice): An ORAAANGE? Reeeally?!

Bud: (Grins wildly, and does a little bit of a dance in one spot): Yea!

Me: (Super duper high silly voice): Reeeealy? You really like them?!

Bud: (Looks at me as if I am a little crazy, still smiling): YEA!!

Me: Okay, cutepants. Here is your orange.

If I was that over the moon about eating every day, I am sure I would enjoy my meals a heck of a lot more.

*Let the record show that Bud consumed more than just an AAARRRNNNE for lunch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few key points before this story begins:

Bud has morphed from calling his brother TT to Ta Ta.

Bud knows that Ta Ta cannot eat food because he has no teeth, Ta Ta can only have milk.

Bud also knows that Momma gives milk or that Daddy gives milk in a bottle.

(Aaaaand I think you see where this is going...)

Bud and I were doing some food shopping the other day, and we decided to pick up some whole milk for Bud. As we put the milk in the cart Bud points at the milk carton, shakes his head no and says "Ta Ta", then he nods his head yes and says "Mahume".

Translation: T cannot have that milk in the carton, that milk is for M.

I agree with Bud, "Yes you are right, this milk is not for T, this milk we are buying is for M."

Bud then looks at me, nods his head yes, points to my chest, and says "Ta Ta."

Translation: You need to start calling your brother something else.

Monday, February 02, 2009

Slow dance

We stand close, his head nestled against mine, me bearing all of his weight. He moves his head slowly from side to side, always looking, not wanting anything to pass him by. His skin is warm, and softer than any kind of material I have ever felt. I begin to hum our song and feel his body relax against me, hear his breathing become more even and listen to his throaty whimpers fade. Swaying back and forth, ever so slightly, we slow dance to the music I create and I hold him even tighter, my lips kissing his downy soft head. I try to imprint every part of this dance in my mind. I want to remember the feel of his body, so soft and small, the smell of his hair, so clean and pure, and the responsibility that is upon me, so mighty and massive.