So somehow, when I wasn’t looking, a certain person in this house magically transformed from a toothless baby to a seven-year-old with oversize front teeth.
(Excuse me as I hyperventilate at the very thought.)
This child is a bossy, obnoxious, tattling little booger. But he is also a delight.
And honestly, if you listed all my bad points I don’t know if you’d really be able to follow the long, long list with “but she is also a delight.”
So I guess I can’t complain.
He is a curious mixture of innocence and worldly wisdom– of laughter and seriousness– of me and Art.
And he is much, much too tall.
Today I took him to Pizza Hut, where we discussed all sorts of things including the fact that I actually used to work at Pizza Hut. In the middle of this conversation, he reminded me that no one ever really wants to talk about work when he said “I think we’ve been talking about pizza kind of a lot.”
Yeah, he kind of tells it like it is.
I keep waiting for the day when he will think he’s too old or too cool to hug and kiss me in public, to hold my hand in a parking lot, but today wasn’t that day.
Which makes this Mommy very, very happy.
We prayed for new shoes and found them at the store after much trying on of many different varieties of blue and red footwear. He almost despaired but I reminded him that we had prayed and he kept faith and then there they were, and he was happy. And so was I, seeing my son learn first-hand of God’s provision for our needs.
(Size TWO??? Seriously? HOW is that even possible?)
We drove in the car and he commented on how white the snow was, how weird that yellow flashing light was, and how this was a silly song. And he asked about metal– where does it come from and can it really melt and if gold is so soft, how come it’s so expensive? So we talked about science and supply and demand and I hope that I told him right, because I have no idea about so many of these things.
And then we went bowling (size TWO????), and we won’t talk about how close our scores were or how much I relied on the bumpers to keep my ball on the lane. But we will talk about how many times he flung himself at me for huge hugs when he thought I did a good job.
Because that was awesome.
And so is my seven-year-old.
I think I’ll keep him around for another year.
Tune in tomorrow for pictures of the best birthday cake ever. I mean EVER.