Saturday, April 16, 2011

Smoochies Make Everything Better

For about two months now, Caderyn has been intently focused on "owies" and making them feel better. He enjoys pointing to his knees and fake crying about an imaginary owie he received throughout the day. Of course, being his mother, I think its adorable and humor him by smooching his knees (they are very cute knees).
This new found revelation has now evolved into the idea that whenever something on Caderyn hurts, only Mommy's kisses will make it better (the selfish mother in me loves this). Some days, as soon as I walk in the door of Caderyn's daycare, instead of smiling when he sees me his face crumples as though in pain. He grabs his knee/hand/foot/elbow and rushes over to tell me he hurt it and needs a kiss. His daycare ladies look puzzled because they didn't think he was hurting, but I assure them he just needs some Mommy attention as I hold the hurt limb in my hands and shower it with kisses until he smiles.

I.Love.It. Not that he's hurt. But that I, and I alone (not the correct grammar, I know), can make his owies feel better.

Okay, getting into the story. So yesterday was a gorgeous spring day in Montana. I picked the Bubster up from daycare, got him an ice cream treat (it WAS a long week) and rushed home to play outside. We pulled out Caderyn's lawn mower- not real, it shoots out bubbles- and I grabbed the poop scoop and rake. Caderyn mowed and mowed that lawn. Then he helped me find Lucy bombs in the yard that I'd missed before helping me pick up sticks and pine cones. Then he mowed some more. I took a minute from my exuberant raking to lean casually on the rake and watch the inexhaustible little boy rush around the yard.
Caderyn noticed that I had stopped and rushed over to me with arms spread out saying, "What happened?"
I wasn't quite sure what he was talking about until he got closer.
"What happened Mommy? Did you hurt your knee?" he asked with a very concerned look on his little face.
I was leaning on the rake with my left leg stretched and my right leg casually bent. He must have thought I'd hurt it.
So over he rushed questioning what was wrong.
He lightly touched my right knee and then went down on the ground to lift up my pant leg and kiss my right leg.
"All better!" he exclaimed and then buzzed off to mow the lawn again.

My unhurt knee felt remarkably better.

Have an owie? Call Dr. Bubster at 555-OWIE and he'll make it better.

Need a stinkbutt? Lucy poops enough for five dogs.


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