Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Driving Again, Only Better


Although the words "babe" and "baby" are not allowed to travel from my lips to Merrick's ears, he is just that--my baby. And he turns five in 15 days, not that we're counting.

If I accidentally say, "Come here, babe," I must freeze and immediately apply the follow salve to his ego: "I mean Fireman Tough Guy Police Merrick."

Folks, that kid actually wears a whistle on a string around his neck. All in the interest of ordering us into the 'freeze position' , Captain Von Trapp-style.

So my Fireman Tough Guy Police Merrick was masculinity itself yesterday, strapped in a booster seat with a sucker, singing "Old MacDonald Had a Fart" when he stops suddenly and asks (soberly, as if I might say no): "Mama, when we get home will you hold me?"

Can I stop the car right now?

You bet, babe.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Why can't they just be that between baby and big boy stage forever?

Liv said...

oof. i love those moments.

Anonymous said...

Oh, sweet :)

Um, a whistle??lol!

AK said...

You're blog is gorgeous. I'm so glad I've found it. Its became one of my "must-see's" on the day.

Laura/CenterDownHome said...

Yes. Hold him. Hold him and don't let him grow up. Sigh. My round-cheeked little Owen is 14. My baby. He was playing an online game the other day and had recorded a section. When he heard his voice, he said, "Hey, Mom, it sounds like I'm forty or something!" Oh. My. God. What I wouldn't give to pick him up and cuddle him again. Early Happy Birthday to FiremanToughGuyPolice Merrick. :)

Heather said...

Awwwwww. Those moments are too few aren't they?