I can't focus when I'm near you.Three-year-olds always know when you're distracted. And my house is no longer childproofed nearly enough for this little tornado of a boy. Gabriel, who is going to piggyback on the rest of my day because his mom got stuck at work this morning and has a chance to take another shift until she can have her husband pick her up on his way home. For those who are new to the story Gabriel is my little neighbor across the street. I look after him when there is an emergency, which amounts to about once every six or eight months.
Do you notice me at all?
Gabriel has tried seven times to make me share his peanut butter and jelly.
Share? Bridgie? Some? Eat some? Have some?
No, thank you.
Hungry, Bridgie? Here, half. I have half. Do you have cookies?
Yes, I have cookies and apple slices when you're finished your sandwich.
Chocolate cookies, Bridgie?
Yes, sweetheart. Chocolate. We like chocolate in this house.
Me, too.
He keeps things simple, you know that? Lochlan walked past the living room earlier on his way to get a glass of milk and stopped and watched us. We made a ramp with books and we were driving little bulldozers up into the plants and rearranging the dirt. Okay, I was, because clearly Gabe is a animal-lover and my cats are terrorized beyond belief, having been picked up and hoisted over his shoulder so many times in one morning they have gone off to hide until the tornado warning has ended.
I'm kind of hoping he stays for dinner. It's awfully nice to be with a cute guy who wants to share his sandwich, with no expectations or innuendos otherwise. Of course someday Gabriel is going to grow up and use these blonde curls and blue eyes to wreak all kinds of havoc on hearts everywhere so maybe I'm just tilting at windmills again.
I'll just enjoy it while it lasts.