Dean has started calling his father "Marcus," probably because he heard all of us calling him that a lot on vacation. When he says it, it sounds like "Mah-cus." Here he can be seen explaining how to catch a bluegill.
"You trow the cricket in da water and da fishy bites it--CHOMP, Mahcus."
Whatever, lady. It's hot. Let's get a juice box.
Deano Lane'll make ya JUMP JUMP! (on the couch!) (which is a no-no!) (but still cute!) (in big boy undies!)
Mooom, I appreciate that you and Mahcus are "show people," really, I do. However, I do not care about these Tony Awards of which you speak. Hook me up with some Princess and The Frog.
Don't call us show people, son.
The one thing I didn't get a picture of that OH, I wish I would have was Dean and me watching his lovey, Stu, in the washer last night. We had a bit of a traumatic evening--Dean was stung by a yellowjacket 3 times. He was such a trouper about it though. Between his screams of pain, he made sure to say "thank you" to me for putting ice on his stings and to his dad for applying hydrocortisone cream. With all that excitement, we all lost track of how long it had been since our last potty break, so we had a little accident on the living room floor. Poor Stu got a little damp, so into the washer he went. Dean was nervous for him, so I let him pour in the detergent and we sat right in front of the door and watched Stu roll around in the suds. It was one of those perfectly simple moments. I got to steal lots of top-of-the-head kisses and we sang a lot of songs. And once Stu was all clean, to bed they went.
Today, we head to Birmingham Children's Theatre to see one of our former students in The Little Red Hen. I'm so, so excited and I hope Dean loves it. Something tells me he will, being the son of show people.