All of the boys need a bath. They are sticky and icky and well...kind of stinky.
N climbed up in my lap, and I was kissing on him.
Me: You're my stinky baby.
N: Das right, Mom, das right.
My Mom likes to point out I don't have a baby anymore, but I'm still claiming him as my baby and he agrees with me. Just the other day I was carrying him up to bed for his nap and he told me "I you baby, Mom. I you baby". Who am I to argue with that bit of cuteness?
1 comment:
Or me...
Mom
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