The other night, after putting Little Dude to bed, I heard him faintly whispering to himself as I went back to my room. Knowing something was up and hoping to hear a few unedited gems, I stayed in the room to see what happened next. I knelt by my bedside to listen as Little Dude opened his bedroom door and began creeping down the hallway.

Real cautious-like, Little Dude’s head slid around the doorway… where he saw me looking right at him. For a split-second, his eyes popped as he froze in mid tip-toed panic.

“What are you doing?”

“Nooooothing… I just wanted to be with yoooooooou.”

“That sounds good, but really. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“C’moooon. You can tell me.”

“Ok… Papa, I prayed you’d go to sleep so I could go out and play in the living room and I was checking to see if you were asleep yet.“

Lady-Friend has a melodically clean singing voice and she’s not afraid to use it around the house every so often. Little Dude’s known to pipe up from time to time as well. For reasons that will be explained by science in the year 2018… or something… Little Dude’s always had a hard time with Lady Friend’s singing. As a credit to Lady-Friend, she doesn’t take that crap lying down. When Little Dude gets sassy, she’s usually ready with a lesson. Unfortunately, Little Dude is now past that.

“Mama, stop singing. I don’t like that song.”

“How would you like it if I said I didn’t like your song? I don’t
like your song- how’d that feel?”

“I didn’t feel anything.“

My grandparents live in Northern California on a plot of land packed with orange, lime and avocado trees– which kind of pays off when they send us boxes full of the stuff. And where Little Dude was totally on the avocado bandwagon a few years ago, he’s since jumped off, lit the thing of fire and sent it over a cliff. Still, we try.

“Here, have a slice of Avocodo.”

“Ewwww. Nasty!!”

“Since when do you not like avocados? They’re delicious!”

“Papa, I just don’t like them. We’re all different!“

Little Dude wants to give cold the what-for and has been begging to fly to Hawaii for months. Last week, as we celebrated the mere idea of going to Hawaii, we ate at the Hawaiian themed (but not-so-authentically Hawaiian tasting) Rumbi Island Grill.  To amp the ambiance, the restaurant has a couple fake palm trees out front. When he saw them, Little Dude’s cold heartbreak was over:

“Look, its warm now!“

When we dye Easter eggs, we use a white crayon. I enjoy writing happy Easter stuff like “The Easter Bunny is no replacement for Santa Claus” and “Easter Bunny- I hope you didn’t freeze to death.” Once I’m done, I dip the egg in a coffee cup full of dye and wala. The writing stays and the eggs retains its cheery Easter message.

Naturally, I wanted Little Dude in on the fun.

“I’m tired of writing. What should I draw on my Easter egg?”

“Whatever you want. It’s your concern.“

Spring is finally here–I think– which is good, because last week Spring was having a nervous breakdown and Suckadoo was filling in. Lady Friend let Little Dude know how she was feeling about it all:

“Man, I’m tired of this snow.”

“Mama are you thankful for water?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to be thankful for snow because it brings us water.“

Little Dude likes verbally outdoing himself– especially when it comes to letting us know how much he loves us. And super-especially when anything past 100 is pretty much infinity, anything more than $100 is a one way ticket to billionaire village and grocery stores a few blocks away might as well be on another planet.”G’night, Buddy. I love you.”

“I love you too. This is how much I love you: I love you past Macey’s and Walmart and the planet and the universe and heaven and infinity and past 100!“

Little Dude is a slow eater. Ridiculously slow, which usually means we’re cleaning dishes while he’s still poking his food and trying to talk his way out of finishing dinner. Being a jerk, I decided to incite try some motivation. I grabbed a couple pieces of Easter candy, conspicuously gulped them down with an “Mmmmmmmmmmmm! Delicious!” and started singing a song about eating candy because I ate my dinner. Little Dude didn’t appreciate it.

“You rudey!! That was totally rude.“

Between the Memorial Day General, the Independence Day Eagle and the Labor Day Hobo (they’re real!), our kids won’t even need Christmas. But because we’re exorbitant and have no shame, we’ll give it to them anyway.

Little Dude’s been through a couple of Easters but was still gobsmacked when he saw the candy trail leading from his bed into the living room. He’s convinced the Easter Bunny poops candy. Weirdly, he had no problem eating it.

Little Sis is new to the whole Easter thing, but after pulling her first jelly bean out of the carpet, she never looked back. Even when she tried to eat a Hershey Kiss, foil and all. On that, I blame myself.

Easter. Nothing like watching your kids form the habits that keep dentistry a viable profession.

I’ve just been to lazy to post anything about it. That and there’s too many pictures to sort through. Soon enough.