According to beloved B, my post yesterday didn’t appropriately convey the awesome-ness that is Little J, who is LITTLE (three short years he’s been on this planet) and who now can ride his bike without training wheels.
I guess I’ve been living so long with super-freak kids, my baseline for what’s extraordinary is a bit off.
I will add, though, that I am thrilled that Little J loves his hot pink bike. I got it at the thrift store for $4–a great deal in my book–and figured we could invest in a $2 can of spray paint if he objected. But so far he hasn’t complained one iota.
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And hey, I’ve got a line on a hot pink bike the next size up when he’s ready!
CUTE! Between this and the “yoves” thing, I am totally wanting to adopt Little J…or at least have a kid of my own. 🙂
The moral of the Little J story is that a hard baby is still a wonderful thing. I know how gag-me-with-a-spoon sappy that sounds. And while I would have gladly farmed him off about 30 months ago, I’d not trade him for anything now.
That means you got to get your own, Clance. 🙂
I’m interested in the backstory here. What happened? Was he just a bad sleeper or something?