You said goodbye to your Manny* last night; flashed him your 1000watt smile, waved, and you were off. You're getting good at goodbyes.
*When Daddy and Mama were conducting their exhaustive daycare search prior to your emergence, we joked that he could be your Manny. He said he would teach you wrestling moves when you got old enough, and he planned on regaling you with stories of his very colorful past. He joked with Daddy about how he could turn you into a fan of HIS football team, and not Daddy's.
Your Manny? He's good people. He came to see you when you were brand new; he brought Mama a bottle of wine and held your tiny self for an hour. You'll learn that guys get bad raps for being insensitive, or thoughtless. Your Manny is not one of them. He asked me how I was feeling while prego, he felt bad for me when I couldn't drink vodka martinis with our dinners anymore. He actively participates in your life.
He bought you that ridiculous lawnmower for your birthday, and 89 batteries to go with it. He'll play hide and seek with you for 30 minutes at a time. He's patient with you, talks to you like a real person, and shells peanuts for you. He has always called you Lil' Tenie. You smile shyly when you greet him, and within minutes you are climbing into his lap.
He's not going far, and we'll still see him plenty. Life is always changing.
So catch you later, Manny.
But never goodbye.
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