Sometimes I'll have joyful little dreams about something in the past, usually involving family. I woke up smiling this morning.
The three of us were at Kids' Kingdom Park on a warm April day. Dylan was a couple of months shy of his second birthday, and he'd made friends with a couple of four year-old kids.
The two kids introduced themselves to Dylan.
"I'm Brian," one said.
"I'm David," the other said.
"I'm Baby," Dylan said.
Rhonda and I looked at each other. Rhonda smiled. "I guess we should start calling him 'Dylan' more often."
Conversations from a Marriage
3 hours ago
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4 comments:
Ha! That reminds me of an old Bill Cosby skit from his "To Russell My Brother, Whom I Slept With" album. Only it wasn't nearly as nice a name as "Baby".
LOL! That's a hoot! Reminds me of the story of one of my dad's dogs who was actually named 'Dog'.
A#1 story. My uncle had two dogs: Spaniel and Lab
How funny. I used to call my Dylan 'daffy down dilly'. He never minded until he got about four. Then he explained to me what his name was, and sternly admonished me to use it. And to this very day, if you want to see a boy's head spin 360 degrees and smoke come out his ears, you should slip up and call him Dilly. Yikes.
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