Here is the thing though, he is not flashy and out there like Little Buckaroo and myself. We love a stage. Too bad neither of us can sing. Not that it stops us, nope, we can belt out some tunes. We have not been invited to any caroling parties, hmmm, I wonder why.
Anyway, Littlest Buckaroo is reserved and soft spoken, unless he is mad at his brother. He's just a quietly exuberant kind of kid. He also is the spitting image of his dad. He walks like his dad. He thinks like his dad. He has the same quirks as his dad. He does not resemble me physically one bit. He is blonde as can be and I am not, even before Miss Clairol's help.
I am sure he is mine, I have the scar to prove it. Not to mention the baby weight I am still carrying around. Um, yea, I said he was going to be 4 soon. Don't I have until he is 5 to say, "I just had a baby"?
Just when I thought that he and I have nothing that binds us except for our love of vanilla wafers, I saw a flicker of quirkiness that is all Park Wife.
See, when I laugh, really laugh, I scrunch up my nose. I have even had a snort come out once or twice. No, nothing like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality (but I too want world peace), it is just a little snort. And, it has to be something really funny.
Then one day, I noticed it. It began to happen over and over. Yes, my boy scrunches his nose when he is very amused.
Nature? Nurture? I don't care, he is mine. Our bond is solidified by a snort.
Hardy har har...snort,
The Park Wife
“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson