Dear Reese,
We go to Inland Pizza for dinner. It’s our first time — a brick oven pizza place in Bailey’s Harbor. MorMor and Cappi meet us there, and I walk with you outside while we wait for the food . . . but you keep wanting to walk back inside. So we compromise and I hold you while we look at the open kitchen where then make our pizzas. You’re fascinated and occasionally say something to get the cook’s attention.
In the end, you’re not very excited about the pizza. I was excited about it, but I go get a Banana Mango pouch and a Tracor wheel (a toddler soft bar) for you. That and the couple of bites of pizza you take don’t make for much of a dinner, but we carry on.
We go to the park afterwards, where you swing with MorMor and then kind of make a friend going up and down the slide. At least, you see what he’s doing and want to imitate it and you both get in each other’s way while we chat with his parents and grandparents. Turns out the two of you were born a week apart, but he’s visiting from out of state.
Which reminds me of a story your teacher told me earlier this week. Apparently you, Evan, and Reid have a game you play together where you go huddle in one corner of the room, then one of you comes up and tags you, and then you all run to another corner. Or something like that. It sounds organized and adorable, and I’d give anything to have it on tape.
I suspect you’ll nap in the car on the way home from the park — your nap was short and ended early at daycare today — but you don’t. You do, however, tell me ‘all done’ in the middle of the first story I read you and then crawl across the mattress to hold your sleep sack up. I dutifully put you to bed.
Love,
Mama