Wednesday, October 20, 2010
If that doesn't mean anything to you, well, then forget I said anything.
If it does, well then, you might find this interchange amusing betwixt me and my other son's school teacher:
her: "I cannot pronounce your last name."
me: "Oh, it's 'tre-mayne'. You know, like 'Johnny Tremain'?"
her: "Um, don't know that one. I guess I'll have to work on it. . . "
(insert teacher joke here)
Johnny Tremayne (who??) also goes by
Ron John. Johnny Dangerously. Johnny jump up. Go, Johnny Go! Go! And Here's Johnny!
Oh the things you can do with the name John. But I digress.
I would like to apologize for all my philosophical waxes each time a child progresses in age; it's part of my mental situation.
But how can I not comment on my sweet little snuggly, newly-minted 3 year old?
It's a mother's duty. Just take my word on that.
Words cannot describe
My 3rd child.
Not even gonna try.
Okay fine I will.
Sweet. Pudgy. Chunky. Adorable. Squishy. Huggy. Kissy. Letter-lovin'. Letter-obsessed. Left-handed. Squealing. Laughing. Crazy-brows. Broken tooth. Sweet, pink cheeks. Stinky. So, soo stinky.
Love the crap out of that stinky kid.
Posted by Mandi@TidbitsfromtheTremaynes at 9:55 PM