Last night at the store, as I’m wiping Ry’s ass after he took a monstrous dump, I sighed one of my patented christa sighs, and without missing a beat, ry said, “oy vey” like I always do. it was funny.
Then later, as I’m zipping up his jacket, he hugs me and says, “mommy, you’re my best friend.” couldn’t you just die? I’m his best friend! granted, he doesn’t have any real concept of friendships, much less BEST friendships, and he doesn’t know very many people, so being his best friend is kind of like being milhouse’s best friend, but it still made me very happy.
Later, when G asked if he was ry’s best friend, too, the kid just laughed and said, “no daddy. no.”
It’s the little things, you know?
- my old loafes!
- my grief shall know no limits