Apparently this is the one day in June that I am supposed to blog. Gah.
On the way home from the Y today, Annabella sang us a lovely song. I have it on video and will get that posted when I can.
When Bel was done with her song, Red started making some singsong kind of noises, ending with what sounded like beatbox noise.
I said, “Dude, what’s with the beatbox?”
Annabella chimed in, “Mommy what’s a beatbox? Is that some kind of spitting?”
“Redding,” I say, “are you spitting in my car?”
“I sorry, Mommom. I need to get my junk out.”
“Junk?” I wonder aloud. “You need to get your junk out?”
“I need to put my junk out. My junk is stuck. Mom, I got a lot of junk.”
My son. He has a lot of junk.
I hope Uncle Dennis is laughing at this right now. Because I don’t think I ever heard junk used quite so profusely until Dennis came to visit Andrew and I in California after he graduated from college.
Jun
25