Wrapped in a towel, dripping through the house, he tiptoes up to the door of the bedroom where Mama is lying down reading (TechNet Magazine--ugh!). He carefully peeks his head around the doorframe & giggles. When he's got his Mama's attention, he jumps into the room, throws off the towel, and shouts, "Ta-DA! Punkin Boy!" Whereupon his Mama collapses in a fit of laughter and the boy hops around the room singing the theme song to "Have Gun, Will Travel." (HA! I'm giggling again just writing about it.)
This is me, about his age; I was a little more modest after the bath. (Oh, and there's my mom, too. Love the hair and the cat-eye glasses.)
The extra cute thing about Punkin Boy lately is that he's traded in his Scottish accent for that of a Transylvanian count: "I vant some vater" quoth he. Goodness.
Meanwhile, Pirate Boy quietly observes everything around him, and this afternoon, when nobody's looking... he writes a book. Sheez! I know he's still four years old! And my Punkin Baby's not yet two. Turn my back for a few hours, and they grow up all of a sudden...
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