Saturday, November 02, 2013


Little Owl, now 5, has been a "Leo the Late Bloomer" type, slow to talk.  There's probably a certain amount of trauma there, as he was talking fine before the botched kidnapping (or whatever it was) right before his second birthday, then stopped talking entirely for years.  He recently started talking again, but it still takes my breath away whenever he starts a conversation.

The other night after we watched the end of one of his favorite cooking shows ("That yummy!  Mama make that!") I said, "Okay, it's time for bed."

He turned to me and said, "You break my heart."

I blinked.  This was new.  "I break your heart?"


"Well if you're that fragile you need to go to bed and stay there."

He frowned and thought a bit, but went to bed.  As I tucked him in he said, "You no break my heart, Mama."

"That's good to know, Sweetie."


And maybe one day when you're a grown man with a child of your own, you'll know how good.

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