I wore jellies, and my husband sported Jams. In 1984, that is. What can I say? We were keeping with the times...
Fast forward some 25 years, and our progeny's wicked cool stompin' round in his bigfoot slippers. His shoe of choice, might I add.
You'd think he was Max, or better yet, Aks, from Where the Wild Things Are... what with his heavy foot. Not to mention, the way he gnashes all 18 of his terrible teeth, and rolls his terrible eyes at first whisper of the word, NO.
Did I mention, the way he roars his terrible roar?
Come to think of it, could it be [dum, dum, dum]... the terrible twos?
But really, it's darling. And for the time being, I feel like the wild thing, because I could eat him up... in all his knobby knee cuteness.
Talk to me in six months though. I might just be wishin' he could:
In the meantime, here's his wild rumpus in Daddy's Jams.sail back over a yearand in and out of weeks
and through a day
Before I go, did I say I love this kid?
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