Today, while getting Kian and Karter ready for a nap, I told Kian to pick out some books and meet me in my room. I changed Karter's diaper and I hear Kian... "F'n B! F'n B! F'n B!"
I all I can think is, "what did he hear on tv, or someone say now?!" I look out into the hall and am very relieved to see two books in his hand. Small, Sesame Street board books. One is labeled with a huge F, and the other labeled with a huge B.
Sure, I have no problems reading F'n B books. =)
ps. can I just state, for the record, that I absolutely detest SNOW on May 9th, on Mother's day, on the week of my birthday?! Really? Good joke, God, but please can I have some sunshine and warm temps for my birthday? Thanks. Much appreciated.
pps. Dear Karter, I'm sorry I gave birth to you around Labor day, the beginning of the school year each and every year, just like Uncle Packy, who's birthday you also share. Dear Kian, I am sorry also that I gave birth to you right around Father's Day. Perhaps those days won't interfere with you and your birthday as much as Mother's day does with mine. Not one year, have I been able to separate the two, since the day I was born. I am forever tortured. And becoming a mother means you get combo gifts to squash those two days together, which means neither is really as special as someone who's birthday is say...August 22nd, April 9th, you know what I mean. Come to think of it, poor Aunt Neenee also gets the short end of the stick. Thanksgiving, the mother of all holidays in this family, is always on her birthday or the day before/after. She can't win either. I promise, dear future children (daughter, please) to have you on a non-holiday day. Something like May 18th. Or even February 17th...
Love, your mother.
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