|"Seriously? I can't believe y'all think bunny ears|
are THAT funny. Yawn."
-Lightning, Age: 3 months
Lightning is an old soul. He doesn't always add a lot to the conversation, mostly just listening intently, soaking it all up. But, when Lightning does talk, he almost always has something of substance to add. Which is unusual for a four year old, I think.
Earlier this summer, Lightning made a friend at the playground. Running full speed, he stopped momentarily to introduce me, "Momma, dis is my fwiend Gabe. He's four wike me!" Then they ran off again, to play with a bouncy ball. Since that day, Lightning has asked me at least a dozen times if I could call Gabe's mom and invite him over to play. Every single time I have explained, "Baby, I don't know Gabe's Mommy. And I don't have their phone number. Maybe we'll run into them again someday, and then I can meet his Mommy, okay?"
|"Stick your hands up, or I'll shoot you |
in da balls... And not da balls you
pway wif, but da ones you
punch somebody in!"
Me: No, I sure don't. I'm sorry. But we could give him one, so we'll always know which one you're referring to. (We know two.) We could call him Gabe FrogLegs!
Lightning: Nah. Dat's not a bery good name. Wait. I know... We could call him Gabe Balls! Not da balls you punch somebody in, but da balls you pway wif. Since me and him wike to pway wif dat ball at da pwaygwound.
Oh, my. Life in the peanut gallery...