I think I would pretty much loving having a baby girl. Just think of the dressing up that can be done, and the nice long chats we can have, and the games we’d have fun playing together.
But I am contented with my lot. My boy. My Jayvon.
And I’ve gotten used to messy-eating-with-hands, and running-around-messy, and perspiring-five-minutes-after-a-bath, and grunts-instead-of-saying-an-outright-yes, smelly-farts (I didn’t just write that, ya? I was just thinking out loud…) and noisy-toy-playing… (Yes, I am talking about Jay's behaviour, not mine)
But I’ve always tried to have some form of control. Some.
Like resisting feeding him coke (or any other fizzy drinks). And if you ever get the chance to dine with us, don’t spoil it.
Or like not getting him any “aggressive” toys like machine guns.
In our move to the new place, somehow an odd toy got placed in Jay’s toy box and brought over to our new place.
Jay found it. Belonged to his cousin. Belongs to him now.
Yes. A toy machine gun.
He was so intrigued by it
…for about
… 5 minutes
… till he peeked into his toy box
… and took out his beloved animals once again.
Phew!
1 comment:
Your post completely resonates with me. No toy guns in my household too! and up till now, no softdrink, fizzy or not!
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