This morning was an awful, terrible, wrong-side-of-the-bed, whining, crying, molars-hurting kind of morning. Luke was particularly rough on his dad, who was enormously patient despite the verbal and emotional I-only-want-mama toddler abuse.
This evening, Lucas and I arrived home from daycare.
L: (Runs into the house) DADA, DADA, where ARE YOU?
J: Lucas, he's teaching a class tonight. He's still at work.
L: (Looks at me in disbelief) Dada? Dada here?
J: Sorry honey, he'll be home late tonight.
L: (frowns.) I miss my dada.
J: Me too, honey. I love him.
L: Whole LOT!
1 comment:
What a sweet little boy! (Although I heard from the butler that the morning was pretty rough!)
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