funny fellow

It's such a cliche that the youngest in a family gets preferential treatment but lately I'm beginning to see why. Maybe it's because he's the smallest. Maybe it's because he's the last. Or maybe it's because his legs still have fat rolls and his cheeks bounce when he runs. But I cannot resist the charms of the little guy.



He is perpetually happy and agreeable. He loves to sing songs and and his favorite is still "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner." Sometimes it's disturbing to hear his baby voice singing about the "muzzle flash of Roland's Thompson gun" or "their fingers on their triggers, knee-deep in gore" but somehow he puts a positive spin on it. He also likes to dance spontaneously and will spin around the living room, his little feet working while singing, "I'm dancin' I'm dancin'!"



Everything he does is so adorable I just want to eat him up. I even tell him, "I'm going to eat you up!" and he'll act offended and say, "NO!" I may not eat him. But we cannot stop him from eating. Every morning at the crack of dawn, I hear him come out of his room, close the door behind himself (why, I don't know) and come our way with his diaper crinkling and fat feet plodding. He shows up at my bedside with his puppy and sippy cup and crawls in with us. His first request of the day soon follows, "Ready lunch," so I hand him one of the boxes of raisins or granola bars on my bedside table kept just for this occasion. Then he lays there between my husband and me and chomps away while we try to catch a little more sleep. When we finally get up, the bed is filled with crumbs and sticky granola, but it's worth it to allow his brothers and us a little more sleep. When he finally outgrows his early rising, I actually think I'll miss it.

He is very polite but some times gets his 'thank you' and 'welcome' switched.

Here's your juice, bubba.
Welcome, mama!
Thank you, bubba.

When putting on his pj's he'll hike the pants up over his belly, practically to his neck, and then clap and say, "Did it self!!!"

He is intuitive and seems to understand me better than the others. Whenever I'm losing it and his big brothers are just standing there blinking at me, he'll come over and say, "Hug, Mama," and put his little arms around me. And then he says, "Welcome," and walks off not realizing he just saved everbody from certain death.

I wish I could bop him on the head to keep him this age and size but I know there's no stopping time. But the good news is that he seems to get even better with each passing day.