Three! (Or, maybe just Two.)

Oh, Mr. Doots. Two whole years old, my goodness.

Happy birthday, sweet boy. In the past year you went from the baby always on my hip to the trusty sidekick always at my side. You grew blonde curly locks, you said good-bye to the highchair and then to the booster chair too, you became obsessed with choo-choos and kitty cats. You talk so much, and know your colors and shapes and can count to 3, and sometimes you look up from whatever you’re doing and flash me your lop-sided smile and all I can do is thank my lucky stars that I get to see such a sweet kid grow up. Er, I was not so sweet. And I still hear the horror stories occasionally from your grandparents. Sadly it appears that you did inherit my klutz gene; in the past year we’ve seen two types of stitches, a never-ending array scratches and bruises, 1 head-cracking fall to the sidewalk, 1 fat lip, 2 epic spills down the hardwood stairs, and a broken leg. Whew.

Given all that, a hearty congratulations on making it to Two, my boy. And so now the time has come for the 2nd installment of the Man Rules. Please take note:

  • Always stop at a lemonade stand.
  • When in doubt, wear a tie.
  • If a street performer’s act causes you to stop, you owe him a buck.
  • Take the stairs.
  • Say “thank you” a lot. And say “please” just as much.
  • Always meet a date at her door.
  • Don’t waste your time associating with negative people, life is too short for that (it took your mother 34 long years to learn this one, my boy)
  • On occasion, go to the movies by yourself.
  • Return a borrowed car with the gas tank full.
  • And always wave at kids on school buses.

There now, your list of items to memorize and practice in the coming year. And PS – sorry buddy, but: you’re two.

Much love my baby,

For Past Birthdays, See: One.



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