Nothing is Simple
Number Two is full of love. He spews it unconditionally. When I donned a bikini top yesterday in preparation for some power washing, he told me he loves my boobies. When we read a Cars book before bed, he looked at an illustration of Mack and said "I love that trailer." Should we pass by a farm on the way to drop off The Boss at school, I can count on him expressing his devotion to "that cow." He loves colors, friends, and tasty food. He loves breezes and puddle splashing. He loves planes, trains and automobiles. He loves shooting "hoots," which is his word for basketball. Sometimes when I think of Number Two, I think of Lynyrd Skynyrd's Simple Man . He's only three, but I can't help pondering the person he is poised to become. Mama told me when I was young Come sit beside me, my only son, And listen closely to what I say. And if you do this It'll help you some sunny day. Oh, take your time...Don't live too fast, Troubles will come an