My darling boy is 8 months old now. He crawls like greased lightning, he smiles with his entire being, and he laughs loud enough to melt the hearts of the population of several surrounding counties.
His favorite toy is a spoon (unless he can get his hands on the TV remote), and he wishes that socks and hats were never invented.
He's endlessly fascinating to me and I can't imagine a better kid in the universe.
He's also Massive Headwound Harry today. He woke up with a huge scratch between his eyes this morning, and this evening he wonked his head on a coffee table. The subsequent bruise was immediate and epic, but it barely fazed him and seems to have gone down now. The kid either needs to learn the fine art of balance, or I have to gear up for a childhood full of ER visits.
The New PostSecret Book
3 years ago