The good. Easter Sunday...casual late lunch at our house, 14 people. It rained (of course, the one day in the last 3 weeks...thanks mother nature). So I wore a sweater I just love from MOL. It was from fall, but it it was cute and slightly cozi with jeans (and my wellies that were necessary for trolling thru the wet grass to deposit eggs all over the yard). LOVE Margaret O'Leary...love that her sweaters always feel wonderful, that they wear well, and that I love them season after season, after season. Yah for MOL, you are my sweater go to gal.
The not so good. There were two boys at the house...Romeo, who turned 2 the end of November, and my dear friend's son Tig, who is a month younger than Romeo. They played very well together for the most part--cute little guys. Anyway, we're sitting around the table and Tig is counting the lemons on the table cloth, and pointing out all the colors of the frosted sugar cookies. Clearly, one smart little bug, with great articulation--you could understand every one of his full sentences. Romeo...well, he's not so articulate. The last of 4, he just gave up trying to talk I think either because his sisters do it for him, or no one hears him thru the chaos. So really for the most part no one understands more than maybe 2 out of 10 words he says. So Tig finishes his super-toddler performance, and I step into the other room to grab something and I hear...clear as clear can be, Romeo's little voice, as he says...."MY butt-HOLE". Yep....that's my kid. Does he recount letters, numbers or colors? Nope, instead he likes to show off saying body parts that get squeals and giggles from the other kids. This time being no different, the other kids laughed, he had an audience and then proceeded to run around shouting, "my butt hole, my butt hole, my butt hole". I'm pretty sure he's going to skip a grade or two in school.
What can you do? Big sigh. All I can say is that my sweater was really darn cute and sometimes that's enough :-).
Signed, ME {lv}
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