He talks about it incessantly. "Toast," he says. "Toast."
Just like he indicates everything that is "off". He points at the TV. "Off." The radio is "off." The fan is "off."
Also just like he proclaims, after anything is turned on, "ta-da." Turn on the light, he says "ta-da." Turn on the car, he says "ta da." Turn on the microwave, he says "ta-da."
Ask him if he'd like to eat, and he says "toast." Except he won't eat it. But he does like to talk about eating it.
And he does like to kiss her. Or hug her. "Cee," he says, "kiss." "Cee hug." "Cee night-night." And he snuggles up next to her (or on top of her), and melts into her like butter on toast.
And I hope, I hope, a little bit of her melts into him, too.
JEB
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3 comments:
Love those faces and butter & toast!
I hope so too.
This "ta da" thing...are you sure that he is not carrying a weird pull-string doll?
L2A4
P.S. Last night, Grandma Sandy served some of the vodka that she learned how to make in prison. It's pretty good.
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