I'm in the car. Beanie is driving. Kimberlyboo, my daughter-in-faux, is in the other backseat.
We all go quiet.
"Um..." I say.
"Do you mean, like, tech support Indians, or the kind in the Old West?" Asks Beanie.
"No!" Doodlebug says. "The kind with spaceships and other pwanets."
"OHHHHHH! ALIENS" Say all three grown-ups, pretty much in perfect concert.
"No, not really," I say.
Why do babies have to grow up? I mean, this is the fucking cutest thing I've ever seen. And he says stuff like this all the time. I love my little boy, my little baby, the one that is forever guaranteed to make me chuckle for a half hour every time he opens his mouth.
Additionally, if you ask him what his favorite song is, he's going to tell you it is I've got the music, Jagger*. And then he will probably sing it for you.
Very much unrelated, I heard this morning that Johnny Depp played Jack Sparrow as a cross between Keith Richards and Pepe Le Pew. Don't know how true that is, but... I've got the music, Sparrow. Back the fuck off.
I want the baby to always stay this little. Wittle.
*I know it is "Moves like Jagger," of course I do. I own the song (perhaps I bought it because my baby likes it so much. Who's to say? I know Maroon Five don't give a shit.)
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