Finn Stanley John Rowley is six months old today. I think it's safe to say that he is a man, now. Men sit up on their own. Men bang you in the jaw with their heads twice in a row. Men wake up in the morning and begin their lectures. "Baaaaaaa," they say. "MrrrAAAAOOWglphhhh."
Men pull on your shirt and try and move it out of the way of their mouths. Men wear tights, yes, they do. They are the principal dancers in the Jack-0-lantern Ballet. The feet of the tights of men hang down a few inches below the actual feet of men. This is so that men can grab the feet of their tights while they're wearing them and wave their legs around manually. Men's opinion of pears from a jar changes weekly. Men look forward to rice cereal, because it won't be long now before men eat it. Men kiss your eyeballs. Men call bullshit on various things when they have reached a certain point of tiredness. Bullshit, they imply. And they are right.
When I was a young boy, I wanted to sail 'round the world....
That's the life for me.....living on the sea....
The spirit of a sailor circumnavigates the globe....
The lust of a pioneer will acknowledge no frontier....
Here's to you, Old Master Rowley. There's a world to explore, there's a town back on shore. You just spent six months in a leaky boat!
Love,
Mama
2 comments:
Bravo bravo, men do all of those things. So glad you're enjoying it, my little man will be 2 next week, it's hard to believe but it's so very good too.
Men... can't live without 'em... can't live without 'em.
Especially such a darling, tiny pumpkin man. Yummy.
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