Non-Playthings

Lil' dude, you will want to remember this post when you are, oh, 18ish.

I can already see the scene unfolding before us. You're there, with us, and we're looking at photos.

You come across the ones of you from that first summer you crawled. There are a bazillion photos from that summer. In the pictures, you might be just wearing a diaper, maybe some bloomers. That is not necessarily the embarrassing part.

Everyday during that summer, the Dad and I surrounded you with all your toys and animals and books and things so you would always be entertained. But, for the most part, those toys were left untouched. Your favorite playthings? The rubber door wedge from beneath the bathroom door. The dog's blue-bumpy chew toy. The hairy placemat the dog's water and food dishes sits on. Then, there was that Sunday afternoon where you shut your own bedroom door and found the little door stopper that makes that cool BOING sound when continuously batted at it. You once ate about 11 pages from Mama's Country Living magazine.

So, sweetheart, when you see those pictures of you as a baby, chewing on non-playthings, don't be mad at me, or at the Dad. Don't be embarrassed. It was those things you wanted most, those things you loved best. We tried.