Friday, April 15, 2016

Tito Burrito is 7

This picture, this half-grin of contemplation(wishes, y'know?), this KID. 
 He is persistence. Some days we call it nagging, but when looking for the good in the nagging, we call it persistence. He likes the idea of a lot of things, but only the reality of a few. He likes sugar in many forms, of course. He likes dogs, oh my goodness, does he like dogs. He likes Pokemon, but knows no specifics about the game part of it, only the characters. He likes doing his hair. He likes shoes. The boy and his request for shoes is ridiculous. He likes meatloaf. He likes butter and honey sandwiches. He likes aggravating his brothers, Felix specifically. He leaves me notes around the house. He compliments my cooking. He's a great reader, but isn't to the point that he wants to curl up with a good book(except at bedtime, and then, yes). He's amazing at math. 
 He worries about what he's going to be when he grows up. He can ice skate pretty well. He can ride a two wheeler, no problem-o. He can tie his shoes and has had the ability for a year or two, yet will do his best to convince others that he can't. He has no less than five blankets on his bed. He has fallen into a sudden wealth of stuffed dogs. Seriously, it's insane and I am the biggest contributor to the problem. 
 For his birthday, he got an overnighter with the fam at Great Wolf Lodge. Sean's schedule only allowed for a free day a week post birthday, so it doesn't really seem like it's for him. So we also took him on a date, just Sean and I. We surprised him with Build-A-Bear, because he needed another stuffed dog(nope). The comments Sean made during that shopping experience were worth every penny of the overpriced dog. Not to mention the smile on Mr. T's face. All worth it. We let him pick a dinner spot. I was pushing for seafood, he wanted Chick fil A. It happened to be a kid's night and even he, the seven year old, was taken aback by how obnoxious the children were being. The play area sounded like a scene from The Walking Dead. Not even exaggerating a little bit. 
I tell him all the time that he's our most handsome kid (and not to tell his brothers) and when he tells his brothers, I assure them that they're all basically clones of their handsome father. My Tito Burrito, my awesome boy, is seven.

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