Every Day
After the kids were in bed last night, I headed for the bathroom.
It seems like I can never get to the potty during the day without some little person peeking at me under the door, or melting in a puddle of tears with the obligatory staccato door-banging...
Anyway, as I sat enjoying my game of Sudoku (I blame you, Mom, for my addiction), I heard a sound at the door. It was a crinkling, scraping-shoving sound. A small, square, brown something was attempting to make its way under the door, and wasn't succeeding. It retreated with an exasperated "tsk."
Suddenly, the door opened a crack, and at the bottom of the opening a large hand threw down the small, square, brown something that turned out to be a Snickers Bar. As quickly as it came, the hand went, closing the door behind it.
I laughed.
As I do every day.
Because Jeremy is quite comical.
He's like a geode.
All hard and boring on the outside, but sparkly and magical on the inside.
My little Jeremy geode.
My Geodemy.
But no hammer will open it. He has to want to. He has to feel comfortable. He's like a shy little woodland creature, though not a creature, but a rock. A shy bunny geode.
A Bungeodemy.
Yeah.
Don't tell him I wrote this blog.
It seems like I can never get to the potty during the day without some little person peeking at me under the door, or melting in a puddle of tears with the obligatory staccato door-banging...
Anyway, as I sat enjoying my game of Sudoku (I blame you, Mom, for my addiction), I heard a sound at the door. It was a crinkling, scraping-shoving sound. A small, square, brown something was attempting to make its way under the door, and wasn't succeeding. It retreated with an exasperated "tsk."
Suddenly, the door opened a crack, and at the bottom of the opening a large hand threw down the small, square, brown something that turned out to be a Snickers Bar. As quickly as it came, the hand went, closing the door behind it.
I laughed.
As I do every day.
Because Jeremy is quite comical.
He's like a geode.
All hard and boring on the outside, but sparkly and magical on the inside.
My little Jeremy geode.
My Geodemy.
But no hammer will open it. He has to want to. He has to feel comfortable. He's like a shy little woodland creature, though not a creature, but a rock. A shy bunny geode.
A Bungeodemy.
Yeah.
Don't tell him I wrote this blog.
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Comments
......yeah.