As I woke up this morning, my eyes peeled open to see Adam laying down facing me, poking my boobs. He smiled and said, “There’s a bounce house in there.”
Having just turned 3 years old he is at that glorious stage where his beautiful imagination and limited vocabulary combine to create wonderful metaphors and poetry out of his everyday observations of life.
“How did you get so smart?” I ask him.
He puts his fingers on top of his head and swirls them around. “There’s birds in my brain going swoop, swoop, swoop.”
A snow plow (which we haven’t gotten to see much this year due to the uncharacteristically warm winter) is a “snow cloud” and a pan lid is a “shield” to “fight bad guys”.
All this cuteness is great to keep in mind when he does things that I find less cute. When he pulls out a booger and wipes it on me, laughs and asks innocently, “that a funny joke?” I’m more conducive to think, yeah, it is, than to get angry. When I’m sitting around bored, he can pop me out of it by tilting his head, fluttering his eyelids and asking, “Mom, get a party started?”
These little gems of toddler wisdom should not be ignored, but cherished, and I am thankful for each one.