Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Mine

Sometimes we argue over whose son Muffin Man really is.

"Yours." I say, when he's being extra silly.
"What do mean? He's totally yours!"

There is no doubt tonight, however, over whose kid he really is. Upon checking on him 2 hours after tucking in and lights out, this is what we found.

Light on.
Sleeping on top of the covers.
Face down on a book.

Mine.*







*There continues to be some disagreement about this.

10 comments:

Running2Ks said...

Aw, it is so sweet to get to claim parentage on the cute moments!

jo(e) said...

He would fit right in at my house.

Anonymous said...

Either that or, OMG, you ended up with MY kid...hth did that happen?

ccw said...

I love that you all "argue" over whose son he is during the good moments. Most only do that during the "bad" moments.

He would also fit in well in my house.

Phantom Scribbler said...

I wish he was mine. What a cutie!!!

halloweenlover said...

I argue with my dad over who my mom belongs to- when she acts crazy, it is him, when she is fabulous, it is me.

He is too cute for words.

Mommygoth said...

Love it. Can't wait until my girl can read. Her dad and I are both avid to the point of ridiculous (at stoplights, etc)

Anonymous said...

This is an email I wrote this summer (which would've been a blog entry if I had a blog), which shows your future:

"If there were ever any doubt, this is my child.

J. was reading a book on the train yesterday that was just at the right level for him -- he could follow it easily and only had to ask me for help on a word or two. He was so excited by the stories (about Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth) that he didn't want to do our usual routine of stopping when we get home and picking the story up on the train the next morning -- no, he wanted to finish it at home. 'It's at too exciting a part, Mama!' Not only finish that story but also read the next story in the book.

He pulled it out of his backpack as soon as we got home and got engrossed in the story. When DH called him to the table for dinner, he walked over, slowly, still reading. He sat down at the table, still reading, and didn't look at his full plate until DH called him several times and made him put the book down. (I was suppressing laughter and couldn't be as authoritative as I should have, especially since I felt sympathetic to him.) I assured him that the book would be there after dinner. Sure enough, right after dinner, he picked it up and finished it. Then he insisted on getting the other (similar) book out of his backpack, and read it for the two minutes before his bath."

Liz Miller said...

Isn't it wonderful when they share your joy in reading?

I actually wrote an essay mirroring your comment for my application to Nearby University. Post of essay to follow.

Suburban Turmoil said...

So cute...