Skin milk

Had a lovely walk to the park this evening. The sun came out unexpectedly after several days of rain and drear and after much cajoling I got the boy convinced to go for a walk to the park. It felt like old times, walking to Coventry with my boy. And now with a girl, too, who was thrilled to be outdoors for upwards of an hour. It felt great, actually, to get them out-- makes me realize how stir crazy I get spending every evening at home focused only on dinners and baths and bed. Of course, the price paid for the lovely walk about was that Jackie didn't get his dinner til 7:45, Ivy was overtired and did some major screaming when I put her down, and no one got a bath. I still think it may have been worth it.

If for nothing else it was worth it to hear this line:

As we walked I told Jack that we would be stopping at Marc's because we needed milk. He replied, confidently, "We have milk! We have grown up milk at home!" I told him, yes, we did, but we were out of Jack's special milk. "I like grown up milk," he insisted. I pointed out that whole milk was better for growing boys. He was silent for a moment, then, brandishing his hand before him, he proclaimed: "I have skin!" A pause as I tried to find the segue. And then my boy filled me in by explaining, "I have skin, so I can drink skin milk!" As I laughed in wonder at my son't impeccable logic, he proceeded to list all of his body parts that had skin. As well as stating that, "My eyes don't have skin. They're just eyes, that's all."

How could I love him any more?

From october 2010