+ The way you talk, and talk, and talk, and sing, and shout, and kick, and jump, and play all the way through your “rest.”
+ How sensitive you still are. Example: you cried, multiple times, while watching Inside Out the first time. I love that.
+ When you looked at me eaaaarly one morning while we were watching Alvin and the Chipmunks on the couch in an attempt to let the other men of the house sleep and said “I love this date night.”
+ How much you love “date nights.”
+ The meatballs. You can easily, easily put away 20 meatballs in one sitting.
+ Your smooches.
+ Your puppy dog voice.
+ The way every piece of furniture can become a train or a Millennium Falcon.
+ “I don’t want to tell you.” when you know your going to incriminate yourself.
+ “Mama, I don’t want you to look at this.” when you know you’re about to do something bad.
+ The other day when I finished getting Oscar to sleep and I came out to find you in a coat you had never shown interest in, looking like you had done something wrong, asking me to call you Han Solo and put a Panda in your pocket.
+ Your innocent, curious questions about death.
+ Finding your toys everywhere. It drives me insane, but it’s the kind of thing I waited my whole life for.
+ When you walk into a room wearing my shoes. Always my shoes. Never Papas.
+ “Luke the puppy dog” in your homemade ears and tail, painted on nose, and paws made out of Papa’s socks.
+ This growth spurt which has caused you to nap again (!) and become a bottomless pit.
Love you buddy, Mama