If you've not gotten your Benedict fix in a day or so, here you go. Works for me. Thank me later. As an aside, I can't tell you how much I sometimes wish his name were nicknameable (because, let's be honest, it doesn't just roll off the tongue). But it's not. B.Cum? Epic fail. Ben? Not a chance! Benny? A you-can't-possibly-know-who-this-guy-is offense.
I lurve him!
People, it seems that diapers as a needed product in my home will soon be nothing more than a pee-scented memory. At least until incontinence or grandchildren come along. And if the boys' statements are any sort of accurate foreshadowing ("Since we can't marry you, we're not going to get married. We're going to live together in a house next door to yours. It's gonna be full of candy, snakes, and iPads. Maybe, maybe we'll find a lady and she'll help us get a baby and then we'll give it to you." WTF, people?), incontinence will come sooner and we won't be talking about that or diapers or any such thing.
But back to the present. Ol has declared that he wants to be "dwy at night!" and so we're off. Towels in the bed, the pee-alarm strapped to his jammies, interrupted sleep at night for the greater good of dwyness at night.
I admit there is little more deliciously darling than a chubby toddler toddling around in nothing more than a diaper. That is sweetness and light at its best, and Ol can definitely still make me swoon in that maternal "his butt and its functions are SO cute" way. But undies are cool too, so I am his biggest cheerleader right now. If he wants it, moi aussi, though then my babies' babyhood will really be gone. Sad but not, poignant but such is life. I took about 4 million pics of his diapered bottom so I do have the ability to look back. And I surely will!
T worked late tonight so I went whole-hog (fauxg) Meatless Monday: farro with roasted broc, leeks, Meyer lemon and hazelnuts with blood orange-infused olive oil and goat cheese. Me likey!