Short and Sweet

Well, the day started almost perfectly. Sontoo, who is still in the early phases of communication, covered all the bases.

He calls from his crib at 6 a.m., daddyyyyyyyy, daddyyyyyyyy. I hear it through the baby monitor in the basement, where I'm enjoying my coffee and Andre Agassi's book, OPEN. I'm several chapters in and so far, it's interesting and very readable. I admired Agassi when he was in his prime, the whole rebel thing in addition to his outstanding play. But when you find out where it all came from . . . I'll let you read the book.

Anyway, I make my way upstairs before Sontoo wakes up momma. I open the door, walk in, close it.

"Hewooe Daddy!" he says, in a chipper little voice that always makes me smile.

"Hi Sontoo."

I turn on the little lamp and turn to see him on his back, smiling. He rolls over, gets to his feet and balls up the gramma blankets. He has two, and he won't go to bed without them.

He collects them in his arms, stands and waits to be picked up. I oblige and he snuggles into my shoulder as we take the short walk to the change table.

"Towmater," he says, pointing to the brown tow truck character on his Cars wallpaper.

When the change is over, he rebundles the gramma blankets and snuggles back into my shoulder for the trip downstairs. It's early, so I'm hoping we can settle in together on the couch, maybe snuggle and rest for a few minutes

"Dwink pees," he says, just as I get comfortable.

I get back up and go to fill a sippy with milk.

I return. He laughs with anticipation when he sees the cup.

"Denk oo," he says upon receipt of said cup.

For me, that's the perfect start to any day. Happy, content boy. Please and thank you. Not yet 2 years old.

It's gotta be a good day.