Nurse: (running into the delivery room) His heart rate is going crazy, what’s going on?
Me: (scared because there’s a baby coming) Ummm. I just rolled over?
Nurse: Let’s move you back… Yeah, that looks like it fixed it. Weird.

This scene happens 3. more. times.

Nurse: So, you’re not moving anymore. It’s like he’s throwing a fit every time you change positions. He probably needs a spanking as soon as he gets here…

And that, my friends, is what they call foreshadowing.


The drama did not end there.

Last month you asked us to put you in the trash bin. Yes, the trash bin where real trash goes. The one the garbage truck picks up. You wanted to be Oscar the Grouch and pretend your house (the trash can) was on fire.

We watched Dick van Dyke’s Bert sweep chimneys for hours on YouTube after you couldn’t get enough of Mary Poppins after watching the play at Lola’s school.

You beg me to “talk for” various inanimate objects, especially mowers and bulldozers. We have pulled over and had conversations with more bulldozers than I care to admit.

The things you’ll do for a laugh? The comedic timing and delivery? That sneaky grin when you know you’ve landed a joke perfectly? Those faces that communicate better than any words possibly could? You, sir, are the Amy Poehler to my Tina Fey #ComedicDuosFTW

From day one you have been my storyteller. You have added theater and emotion and drama and laughter and tears and love to my life. Thank you.

Last night you pulled your final show as a pre-schooler. You used big tear drops and begged for Daddy to come to bed. We all snuggled close and this conversation happened…

Otis: What’s this? (pointing to his nipples)
Mark: That’s your chest.
Otis: No. What’s these? (now pointing definitively at his nipples)
Mark: Those are… nipples.
Otis: What they do?
Me: …
Mark: Nothing. They do nothing.

After a little more giggling and hugging you drifted to sleep. And that was the conversation that ended Four.

Today we woke up to Five.

Allergies. Ugh.



I have no clue what Five holds, but I wonder if that conversation wasn’t just a little more foreshadowing from my favorite little storyteller…






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