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Why I’m an elephant

Me and my son are slowly starting to understand each other more and more.

At the age of two he is fearless. I know this because every morning I get up with him (thursday-sunday), I pick him up, put him down on the floor and he’ll walk to the top of the stairs, waiting for me. That’s obviously not the fearless part, though seeing my face is a little scary first thing in the morning.

This morning I asked him to hold both of his bottles, and because he knew I’d be carrying him down the stairs, he grabbed both in one hand. Then I opened my arms and you can see what he’s thinking.’ Have you got your wits about you mother? Because I’m going to run at you so fast and jump and if you don’t grab me, I’ll tumble down those stairs. Mwah ha ha ha.’

He’s awesome. When we got downstairs, he picked up something he shouldn’t, and I ask him nicely to give it back to me. He kept hiding behind a jacket and peeking out at me. ‘Are you still watching me mother? maybe you’ll like a fish and if you can’t see me you’ll forget about me. Damn you’re still watching me? You’re totally like a elephant.

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