Dear Luke,
Today you are at your Mimi's house while I'm working. She sent me this email.
Luke plays with wooden puzzle that reveals a picture for each letter that you remove:
Luke: O is for…Ahpetaht [This is the way you pronounce octopus.]!
D is for…Wubber Ducky!
N is for…Little eggs! [nest]
[removes the Z and sees a folded zipper]
S is for…THAT thing!
Mimi: That’s a Z, and it’s for Zipper.
Luke: Where do you put a zipper?
Mimi: On your clothes, so you can open and close them.
Luke: Oh.
Q is for…Birdie! [quail]
Lukie is for kisses.
xoxo
I love you, boy.
Always,
Mama
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Letter Eight
Dear Luke,
What follows are snippets of recent conversation with you.
You, playing with a piece of spaghetti you've transferred from your bowl to the tray on your high chair:Look, Daddy! I'm playing with a snake!
Your dad: Okay, put it back in your bowl and eat it with your fork.
You: But... could I eat this one with my fingers?
Your dad: Okay. But after that one, you have to eat with your fork. You can't eat any more of it with your fingers. Okay?
You: Well... I can try not to.
***
You, pointing to the zipper on my jeans, in front of your dad's parents as I picked you up after work on Friday: Is that your pee-pee?
***
My young cousins, Aaron and Angelica: Luke, who do you like best? Her or me?/Luke, who do you like best, him or me?
You, very smoothly: I like Mimi [my mother] best. She's pretty.
***
You, running back into Mimi's house from the back yard: Mimi! I'm scared!
Mimi: What are you scared of?
You: I'm scared of the white man!
[I had to explain to Mimi that this is how you refer to the Jack-in-the-Box mascot, whose commercials you do not like.]
***
You, following a spectacular drum solo performed on an inverted hot chocolate tin with two large crayons: [Spoken as a growl] Aaawwwwwiiiiiight!!
***
You, interrupting a conversation between your dad and me: You know, when I was a kid...
Your dad and me: [Trying not to die of laughter]
Kiddo, you are hysterically funny even when you're not trying to be. We are so proud of you.
Love,
Mama
What follows are snippets of recent conversation with you.
You, playing with a piece of spaghetti you've transferred from your bowl to the tray on your high chair:Look, Daddy! I'm playing with a snake!
Your dad: Okay, put it back in your bowl and eat it with your fork.
You: But... could I eat this one with my fingers?
Your dad: Okay. But after that one, you have to eat with your fork. You can't eat any more of it with your fingers. Okay?
You: Well... I can try not to.
***
You, pointing to the zipper on my jeans, in front of your dad's parents as I picked you up after work on Friday: Is that your pee-pee?
***
My young cousins, Aaron and Angelica: Luke, who do you like best? Her or me?/Luke, who do you like best, him or me?
You, very smoothly: I like Mimi [my mother] best. She's pretty.
***
You, running back into Mimi's house from the back yard: Mimi! I'm scared!
Mimi: What are you scared of?
You: I'm scared of the white man!
[I had to explain to Mimi that this is how you refer to the Jack-in-the-Box mascot, whose commercials you do not like.]
***
You, following a spectacular drum solo performed on an inverted hot chocolate tin with two large crayons: [Spoken as a growl] Aaawwwwwiiiiiight!!
***
You, interrupting a conversation between your dad and me: You know, when I was a kid...
Your dad and me: [Trying not to die of laughter]
Kiddo, you are hysterically funny even when you're not trying to be. We are so proud of you.
Love,
Mama
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