Words of wisdom from a 'man' of experience

Now that Yonah is enjoying the undisturbed sleep of the just, I rarely get to enjoy a treat which was once a standard part of our morning routine.  He used to come down to our bedroom and sneak into my bed before the sun crept over the horizon.   And when I finally got up and began my morning 'ablutions', he would lie on his back with his hands laced behind his head, watching each small detail of my morning routine.

I pretended not to notice, but it was endlessly entertaining to watch him in the mirror as he unconsciously pantomimed my motions as I brushed my teeth... spread on sunscreen... buttoned my shirt... put on my watch.  He was clearly cataloging each of these skills so that he would be able to do them exactly as I had when it came his turn to get up and go about his morning routine.

But since Yonah's been sleeping later, it is a rare thing for him to make more than a brief appearance in the kitchen for a rushed hug and kiss before I dash out the door.

This morning I got one of those (now) rare early morning visits.

As I came out of the shower and began getting dressed I heard soft giggles and noticed him occupying his traditional spot on my side of the bed with his hands laced jauntily behind his head and his legs crossed one over the other. 

I made a big show of being surprised and asked him if everything was OK.  He said "The sound of the garbage truck outside my window woke me up so he wanted to see if it woke you up too" (yes, he explained it exactly like that!).

I shook my head soberly and told him that I couldn't hear trucks on the street from my bedroom... but explained that it was nice of him to come check on us.

As I got dressed, Yonah mirrored some of what I was doing and chatted along quietly about inconsequential things.  OK, maybe he wasn't chatting so quietly because Zahava had to shush him a couple of times... but I digress.

Anyway, before I put on my shirt Yonah noticed a couple of deep purple bruises on the inside of my left arm and asked me what they were.  I explained that I'd had a little mishap yesterday and that this 'Petzah' ('boo boo') was the result.  He asked a few pointed questions about how the accident had happened and whether I had cried... and when he was satisfied he understood exactly how I'd gotten my 'petzah', he decided to offer his condolences.  He shook his head from side to side... made a 'tsk tsk' sound with his tongue and said,  "Yeah, I hate when that happens".

I suppose when it comes to falling down and getting scrapes & bruises, my little four-and-a-half-year-old 'man of experience' felt he was on safe enough ground to offer me words from his vast expertise.

Did I mention I'm loving being able to actually have a two way conversation with our youngest son?