I Love Your Boo-boos, Mama

Espen has been experiencing a rekindling of affection for his Original Sources of Life.

We have a pretty relaxed home when we are sans guests, so it's not uncommon for "nudies" to be seen walking to and from the shower or streaking down the hall. (Usually that's just Espen. Usually.)

And for those of you who have followed the antics of Espen over time, you'll recall that he is a rambunctious, joyful little being full of zest for life and throwing his parents curve balls on the regular.

This particular morning, he was in top form-zinging to and fro in the bathroom, asking me to write his name on the steamed up shower glass I was inside.

I've gotten really good at writing from right to left with all the letters backwards. Leonardo Davinci would be super proud of me and I admit to having a certain level of satisfaction at being able to reverse my "S" and "Z" without batting an eyelash. I also have a new found gratitude to the letters "A","H", "I", "M", "N", "O", "T","V","W", "X" and "Y" for being symmetrical.

After I finished writing out his name, I turned off the water, dried off and started brushing my teeth. Nudie. Very normal. Espen padded over and stood in front of me. I continued to brush my teeth.

He reached his hands up, high overhead and placed them on my breasts. Well, on the bottom of them anyway. Bowed his head and put his forehead against my stomach. He inhaled deeply and sighed. Was reverently still. And then whispered.

"I love you, boo-boos."

Then he dropped his hands and ran to my bed, ripped off the comforter and threw it to the ground like a wild dog with a fresh haunch of something within its grasp.

And that's about how life is here, these days.

Feel free to provide your interpretation of this event below.

Short Boobs

Espen and I are sitting in bed reading stories. This is post bath and he has requested to be "nudie". Alright, no peeing in the bed, ok? Ok. Full speed ahead.

This is one of his favorite tales. Father Bear Comes Home. At the height of the story's arc, the part when mermaids could make an appearance at ANY MOMENT, Espen freezes.

He touches his nipple. Looks at me, aghast.

"Mama. I. have. a. BOO-BOO!"

That's Espen speak for boob. Not owie.

I nod. "You do! How about that!"

He tries to look at it. Hard task. But the evidence is undeniable.

"Mama! You have biggie boo-boos!"

Relatively speaking, this is true.

Then he looks at his right side.

"I HAVE ANOTHER BOO-BOO!?!"

Mind, blown.

I step in. "That's right! Two boo-boos! How do you feel about that?"

The child is not easily overcome for long. He smiles serenely and puts his fingers together in typical "little bit" fashion.

"Good. I have short boo-boos. Mama you have biggie ones."

And like that, we were back into the story, mermaids and all.

Only now I can't stop thinking about short boo-boos.