Chase spent the night at Cory’s parent’s house last Friday night. It is a big deal for me when Chase is gone for the evening because I’m sure he misses me as much as I miss him when we are apart and frankly, I don’t want to put him through the heartache of missing me and not rocking together before he blissfully drifts off to sleep for the evening (or until he has to go potty, or until he gets too hot, or until his pj's piss him off so much that he screams). Nonetheless, I like to let myself believe there is some sort of heartache on his end also. So, in an effort to not break his heart, overnights without mommy are scarce.
I spent the entire evening missing him. Cory and I went out to dinner and I found myself daydreaming about spending time with Chase and scrolling through my phone to look at pictures of him (I may be a little obsessed with my child but that is only because I don’t have hobbies, or a social life, or boundaries). Sometimes I wonder what I ever talked about before Chase. Probably nothing important.
On Saturday we met Cory’s parents and Chase at a softball tournament. I envisioned Chase waiting for me as we drove up to the softball field and running in my direction with his arms wide open ready to give me a gigantic hug all while spouting out how much he missed his beloved mother (I may watch a little too many Lifetime movies). But that was not the welcome I received.
As Cory’s parents pulled up to the field I waited by the car door to greet my little nugget, but he was fast asleep (I’m sure he was so very exhausted from missing me and couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer). As I got him out of his car seat he woke up and I thought to myself, great- now he can tell me how much he missed me. But instead, 1 millisecond after he opened his eyes he stuck out his tiny little hands, made his fingers into little pinchers and yelled “Titty twister.” Yes, that’s right. Chase’s uncle Brent taught him how to do titty twisters in my absence. Not so much the greeting I was looking for…. Please wish me luck in explaining this one to daycare.
All of this "titty" talk reminds me of a story about my cousin’s little boy, Rylee (I know what you're thinking- who has two stories about titties? Sadly, I do). When Rylee was younger he pronounced “K” as a “T.” You may think, oh that’s no big deal. But when you are talking about kitties it is… this was what he said while talking about “kitties”:
Rylee (to my aunt Jenny): “I like little titties, I like big titties, I even like your titties.”
Rylee (to me): "You don't have any titties."
It's nice to know he doesn't discriminate.
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