These Days

These days, our doorbell rings non-stop and it is rarely for any of the adults in the house. You've managed to fit right in and make yourself some bona fide neighborly friends; something previously difficult to do given the wandering nature of apartment types. It makes me want to stay forever. I should talk to the landlord about signing a forever and ever lease.

These days, you know the real story about Santa. Because you asked me. In a grocery store. On Christmas Eve. And because I think you are a lot like me in that respect, I gave you the whole truth and nothing but the truth and you were totally okay with it. Just as I suspected you would be. Now you belong to a special club of big boys who know.

These days, you ask me when you can have your next sleepover, because you slept in another house without me or dad for the first time ever. The mom is a friend of mine and this was planned long ago. We made a deal, see, and you kept your end of the bargain, so I kept mine and for one night you slept on an air mattress and played Wii far away from home.

These days, your dad takes you to movies. He doesn't like movies, but I couldn't stomach a round of Alvin and the Chipmunks, so I put your dad on the spot and he took you to see it. I am pretty sure that's the first movie theater he's ever taken you to. I took you to Avatar, your dad took you to Alvin. Somehow I think Alvin was more special.

These days, you always remember to be thankful. It's your new thing. Thanking everyone for everything. It's sweet and I know it won't last forever. Plus, you've got the cutest way of saying it.