Little grandguy Aaron spent the night with me last night (Nora was with Aunt Tina.) And I have no pictures to show for it because taking care of an almost-two-year-old was busy work. I always admire my daughter and other moms, and I was reminded of just why.
He was ready to go when I got there, excited about a ride in Gran B's truck. He didn't seem to notice that the car seat had pink and brown flowers and promptly proclaimed it as his seat. I can just imagine what Nora would have to say about that.
I'd thought about going to LaRosa's with him but he was dressed so nicely that I chose Bob Evans instead since grilled cheese seemed "cleaner" than spaghetti. He didn't want to sit in his booster seat, wasn't much interested in coloring, didn't even care much for the grilled cheese. He spent much of his time bouncing around and flirting and was quickly ready to go.
In my back yard he played about twenty-five games of pretenting to go away, saying "see ya," then coming back fifteen second later, all happy and saying "Hi, Gran B." He was happy to take a bath with bubbles, happy to play with the toys, even happy to go to bed. I used to comfort my daughter than crying babies make happy toddlers and I firmly believe that.
He was happy to get up this morning, happy to eat toast, happy to go to church, happy to go home. Just a happy kid, but I have no pictures . . .