Last night, after Wayne had brushed his teeth, he was blowing toward Tyler. (I hate when people do that to me, but Tyler doesn't seem to mind). In fact, Tyler said, "You have pretty air."
My son. I love him so.
(We won't get into his morbid conversation with us last night: something about - do we wish he was dead? him dying at 38, 57 or 58-7. What is 58-7? We don't know either. Yeah - still figuring out this dying thing, I guess).
3 comments:
Pretty air, huh? Well, I certainly wouldn't have said that growing up with Wayno. I used to walk into his room after a good night's sleep, and his tiny room was full of his...stale breath. He knows it--don't let him deny it. :)
i'm pretty sure that any time you blog about something tyler said you're just full of lies. i have yet to experience a tyler with verbal abilities. in fact i fear he may be mute.
Oh yes, Rachel - in the morning, the air is still - stale, would be a nice word.
Melissa - You always make me smile!
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