I pick Turner up from his first day back at school. He is all grins and jumping. I figure he got his last breathing treatment a little late and it is just now kicking in. I don't blame them; if he weren't my kid, I'd hold off on the madness of steroids as long as possible too.
We are on our way home. He is quietly eating the snack I packed for him...apple slices.
"Mommy. You have blue eyes?"
"Yes I do. What color are your eyes?"
"Black!"
"Yeah, they are pretty close to black. They are really, really, really dark brown."
"No they aren't." He sounds offended. "They are the mostest brown." The logic is there and I'm laughing because outsiders might be curious about why I would encourage my child's inaccurate notation of degree. I love it though because he and I play the mostest game about who loves whom the mostest. He has never referred to anything else with 'mostest' language.
Another noteworthy moment of our day...Andy and I joined a gym AND we actually worked out together.
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