Thursday, July 15, 2010

Notes On A Two Year-Old

Yesterday morning, I made breakfast for my two year-old.  Just like I do every other morning.

Except that yesterday morning, I pissed him off when I told him that, no, he could not eat his scrambled eggs with a knife.

And when I turned my back, the scrambled eggs were dropped and scattered all over the clean, just mopped floor beneath his seat. 

I think it was a form of silent protest.

Three minutes later, two triangles of raisin toast came hurling across the breakfast counter, through the air and straight for my head. 

I'm not sure what I did to prompt this one.

Please, can we just skip two and go straight to three, I thought to myself.  Sometimes, this kid has more energy than I can handle.

Later last night, this same two year-old finally fell asleep. 

And as he lay there so peacefully, so quiet and so still, he looked like an angel and I couldn't stop admiring him and thinking what a delight he is and how much I love his spirit and his energy and his zest for life.

Please, I thought to myself, can't I just keep him this age forever?


Photo credit:  Wikimedia Commons

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