Man Alive! I need to start getting to bed sooner. Although it really doesn't matter what time I go to bed, it's what time I wake up. But whatever. I'm bored talking about that. Let's talk about something else. What to blog about? Yesterday, we were all eating dinner outside on the back porch, and I asked Owen as I was returning from getting more water inside, if he needed more noodles. He turned around, looked at his plate, turned back around, and said "No thanks, Mama. I have plenty." He's always been amazing with his vocabulary, but I just think his choice of words these days is hilarious.
Hmm, re-reading it, I can see where that sentence wouldn't be considered woo hooo amazing or anything, but you gotta couple it with how he looked, what his voice sounded like, and his inflection. Maybe if I were a better storyteller, I could have conveyed that emotion. Let me try again.
Read More below.
The last of daylight was lingering in the sky. The pre-dusk horizon shone orange as Owen sat serenely in the oversized garden chair. By any typical standards, the garden chair was in no means oversized. However, Owen was far from typical. His tiny stature belied his grandiose, gregarious nature. While he may have appeared miniscule in his physical form, his mind and actions were developed well beyond his paltry vertical challenges.
His consumption of dinner was fairly normal. He enjoyed his meatballs, cooked in a simmering sauce filled with fresh tomatoes and fine garlic. His pride in assisting in the preparation of such a dish was apparent as he shoved several pieces in his tiny mouth, savoring the garlicky flavor. The duram wheat semolina noodles he grasped at with his graceful fingers wiggled with each movement. As he gulped his Vitamin D milk, he exclaimed, "This is good mama! Thanks for cooking." Such sentiments were not rare. Owen let it be known when he enjoyed a satisfying meal, thus complimenting the chef - oftentimes complimenting himself in the process.
As everyone's beverage ran low, I made a motion to leave. Upon excusing myself from the table, and entering the house, I turned to my child and asked, "Owen, do you need any more noodles?" He gently turned his head away from me, cocked it to one side, and looked at his plate. Finding it still brimming with noodles, his mind made the assessment. His eyes darted upwards into his head, to find the correct words to express his thoughts. He slowly turned back around, and deliberately, yet nonchalantly proclaimed, "No Thanks, Mama. I have plenty." His emphasis on the word plenty was punctuated with a 'dee' instead of 'tee' as his mouth was probably filled with some mixture of meatballs, sausages, and rotini. He smiled an impish grin, and then returned to his plate of food and continued to eat with gusto and pleasure.
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HAHAHAHAHA. Oh well. So much for my description. Gotta run.
