The Boy

He started Preschool at the end of last month.
As in all day, every day.
He loves it.

He won't tell us what he does at school or what he ate for lunch.
We ask, and he just says "I don't know."

He's told us several times that he wants to sleep in his own bed.
We are still at my sister-in-law's home waiting (and waiting and waiting. . .) for our AWESOME contractor to finish our floors.
Man, I wish there was a font for sarcasm.
We will hopefully be back tomorrow, so my little man may just get his wish.

I took the kids to a festival today where the kids got to ride a pony, bounce in a bounce-house, eat snow cones and play on a playground.
I asked him to tell his Daddy what he did today.
He replied, "I don't know."
I asked him what his favorite thing about the festival was, and he says, "I don't know."

I ask him if he loves me, and he says . . .
"Yes, I love you. Mommy, you are nice."



"I don't know," but I think I'm in love too . . .