To Luke
Lukey,
I have to capture some bits and pieces of your character as a 2 1/2 year old. So here goes:
You love bouncy balls. You have close to 45 bouncy balls. Every time we go to the gas station or Jahnke's grocery store you bring a quarter or two from your bucket and can't WAIT to get a bouncy ball. You see the ones on the top that you like and tell me "Mom, I want that one." I try to explain we don't get to choose which one comes out and that the ones on the top are most definitely not going to make it out with this quarter or your next 50 quarters. Sometimes you are ecstatic with the ball that comes out - maybe it's a totally new color or design - and you look at it and hold it and feel it, then put it immediately in your pocket (you never actually bounce them). A second later you take it back out and admire it, then stuff it back in your pocket. You say, "Mom, that's a cool bouncy ball" or "Mom, that one's really awesome." For the next few days that bouncy ball stays in your pocket or somewhere very close by.
So now, if you get a bouncy ball that you don't like, you are so disappointed that you beg for another quarter...or most recently, you will get a look on your face like you are indifferent to the entire world and you slowly let the bouncy ball slip...slowly, ever so slowly....out of your hand and onto the floor as you keep walking, looking ahead with a blank face, never looking back to that piece of crap bouncy ball.
More than bouncy balls, you LOVE golf balls. You have a basket full of golf balls...close to 30 golf balls...of all colors and brands. You know EXACTLY where each ball came from - who gave it to you and when, or where you found it. You also know the brands and will say "That's a Titleist from uncle Pete" or "The orange ball is from Uncle Mike from Torrey Pines" or "Grandpa Dave gave me the green and black balls at the wedding." Somehow, in your 2 year old mind, you know with certainty that one white Titleist ball is different than the other white Titleist ball. You will say, "No that Titleist isn't from Pete, that one is from Joe. This one is from Pete." They look identical to me. Your pockets often carry 3 or 4 golf balls. Lately, your pants are constantly falling down b/c of the weight of all the golf balls (and a couple bouncy balls) in your pockets. (We have some great pants that are no longer worn because they don't have pockets). You sleep with your golf balls often.
One other thing you will find in your pocket along with the golf balls and bouncy balls is your Lightening McQueen car. You love that car. You love the movie and quote movie lines better than I ever could.
I don't know where 3 years has gone (you are almost 3). I just went into your room and laid by you (it's 11pm). I'm overcome with love so much that I often cry when I'm laying there by you. I never thought I could feel this way about anyone or anything. I jump ahead in my mind and see you as a young man and I want to grab you and never let you go or grow up. But I know you will. And I will be okay, because that is how God designed this world.
I love you, Luke Duke.
Mom
I have to capture some bits and pieces of your character as a 2 1/2 year old. So here goes:
You love bouncy balls. You have close to 45 bouncy balls. Every time we go to the gas station or Jahnke's grocery store you bring a quarter or two from your bucket and can't WAIT to get a bouncy ball. You see the ones on the top that you like and tell me "Mom, I want that one." I try to explain we don't get to choose which one comes out and that the ones on the top are most definitely not going to make it out with this quarter or your next 50 quarters. Sometimes you are ecstatic with the ball that comes out - maybe it's a totally new color or design - and you look at it and hold it and feel it, then put it immediately in your pocket (you never actually bounce them). A second later you take it back out and admire it, then stuff it back in your pocket. You say, "Mom, that's a cool bouncy ball" or "Mom, that one's really awesome." For the next few days that bouncy ball stays in your pocket or somewhere very close by.
So now, if you get a bouncy ball that you don't like, you are so disappointed that you beg for another quarter...or most recently, you will get a look on your face like you are indifferent to the entire world and you slowly let the bouncy ball slip...slowly, ever so slowly....out of your hand and onto the floor as you keep walking, looking ahead with a blank face, never looking back to that piece of crap bouncy ball.
More than bouncy balls, you LOVE golf balls. You have a basket full of golf balls...close to 30 golf balls...of all colors and brands. You know EXACTLY where each ball came from - who gave it to you and when, or where you found it. You also know the brands and will say "That's a Titleist from uncle Pete" or "The orange ball is from Uncle Mike from Torrey Pines" or "Grandpa Dave gave me the green and black balls at the wedding." Somehow, in your 2 year old mind, you know with certainty that one white Titleist ball is different than the other white Titleist ball. You will say, "No that Titleist isn't from Pete, that one is from Joe. This one is from Pete." They look identical to me. Your pockets often carry 3 or 4 golf balls. Lately, your pants are constantly falling down b/c of the weight of all the golf balls (and a couple bouncy balls) in your pockets. (We have some great pants that are no longer worn because they don't have pockets). You sleep with your golf balls often.
One other thing you will find in your pocket along with the golf balls and bouncy balls is your Lightening McQueen car. You love that car. You love the movie and quote movie lines better than I ever could.
I don't know where 3 years has gone (you are almost 3). I just went into your room and laid by you (it's 11pm). I'm overcome with love so much that I often cry when I'm laying there by you. I never thought I could feel this way about anyone or anything. I jump ahead in my mind and see you as a young man and I want to grab you and never let you go or grow up. But I know you will. And I will be okay, because that is how God designed this world.
I love you, Luke Duke.
Mom
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