Curled on my lap, he rests his head on my round stomach. His fingers trace the satin lining of an ivory blanket as we watch Winnie the Pooh And the Blustery Day. Quite possibly feeling a bit cramped beneath my son's head, Lila begins thrusting herself outward, seemingly in an effort to stop him from using her as his pillow.
In return, my son sits up, looks at me questioningly, then looks down to my stomach. He places a small hand on me, feeling for her to move again. She does. In return, he asserts himself as the eldest and begins smacking my stomach with the palm of his hand until I'm laughing so hard that he tumbles from my lap and face first into the plush sofa.
Their first fight.
In return, my son sits up, looks at me questioningly, then looks down to my stomach. He places a small hand on me, feeling for her to move again. She does. In return, he asserts himself as the eldest and begins smacking my stomach with the palm of his hand until I'm laughing so hard that he tumbles from my lap and face first into the plush sofa.
Their first fight.
Labels: The Boss