Snert is my boy. He’s almost five years old, and doesn’t want to grow up. He wants to shoot guns and all, but preferably not as an adult. The other day his future was looking so doomed that he could barely choke down his lunch.
He did choke it down, though. He always manages to finish eating, no matter how upset. Ever since he was a baby, he’d pause even the most desperate crying session to shove things in his mouth. I have no idea where that comes from. It’s not like food matters that much to me or anything…
Snert wasn’t weird looking when he was born. His hairline grew right down to his eyebrows, but his face was perfect right from the start.
He’s been this cute, with varying degrees of sassy, ever since.
Snert is passionate. Snert loves a good joke. He was laughing at my Dad’s puns way before he could understand them. I still don’t get some of my Dad’s puns. (Although I made an epic pun recently. We were talking about stop signs (do you SEE how fascinating my life is?!?!) and someone said they had eight sides, and someone else said he thought it was just six and I piped up with (I really have no idea where it came from – pure brilliance, I guess) “Well, they must have been cutting corners.” Here’s a tulip for you to look at while that sinks in.)
I keep a file on the computer of things Snert says. I so badly wish I had started this a couple of years ago. I don’t know how many awesome things I’ve forgotten… But I’m growing a nice little collection now, and they are so much fun to read over. Not just that, they remind me that my little boy is introspective and excitable, tough and sweet, funny, loud, sometimes sulky, often hilarious, and deeply thoughtful. Some times he smells.
If I’m terrifyingly honest with myself I realize that Snert will very likely be my only child. I’d like to remember as much as possible about him… like how this Christmas one of his favorite songs was “Deck The Halls With Balls of Golly”, and how dearly he wants to live in a How-tell because they have pools. How he loves babies and longs for siblings, but as he drifts off to sleep at night says things like “I have my favorite family”.
Thank you, Lord, I have my favorite boy.