Zane and I like to frequent Blind Faith Cafe on Friday mornings for hot chocolate and coffee. It’s our date. He loves dating.
As he sipped his hot chocolate today, he began to rub his tummy and sigh,
“Oh, this is comfortably good.”
What a sentiment to hot chocolate, right?
“Mommy, I want to go into an air balloon with you. I’d like to go in the basket with you. We’d be very safe. Not like in the Wizard of Oz.” From this point on, a new conversation was launched, which you, the reader, can check out in the post below.
But for now . . .
My son is such an old soul at times. Frankly, some of his phrases and responses to questions sound as if he’s decades older than he is.
“Zane, how did you nap?” is met with “Very well, thank you.”
“Zane! You pooped! Yeah!” is met with “Please mommy. Lower voices please.”
“Daddy, they are playing Tigerlily music.” In response to a piece played by the Grant Park Orchestra Wednesday evening.
So when he exclaimed that the hot chocolate was “comfortably good” I sat back and really stared into those baby blue’s of his. There is so very much going on in his beautiful head. His beautiful, can’t kiss him enough, head.
I’m sorry that you’ve been having nightmares about polar bear monsters chasing little boys.
Think of those “air balloons”, Zane. The “very safe” one’s.
I’d be glad to join you in the basket.