Whirli-Gig

Whirligig

Arms spinning,
legs pumping,
laugh squealing,
eyes flashing,
constant motion
brings back the
wonder of life.

My son has turned into a whirli-gig for his 3rd birthday. From one thing to the next like a maniacle hummingbird.

Whirli-gig. That is an almost perfect word to describe him. He finally passed out at 9:10pm. After waking up at 5am. If he had woken up at 5am with me again today, I think I would have thought seriously about the merits of cough syrup. Or indulge in a nice long cry.

Yesterday was Ray’s 3rd birthday. Nothing much, just him, Poppa and I. His family party will be on Sunday. For his actual b-day: A few presents, McDonalds for dinner, and playing with the toys afterwards. We drew on the concrete pad out back with side-walk chalk. We rammed cars. Ate a monkey, or tried to. Always moving from one thing to the next with lightning speed.

How can you not love a whirli-gig?

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