Enviable Lifestyle

Some years ago, I used to tease a friend about her toddler. He consistently referred to himself (and everyone else) in the third person (Ex: "Mommy will get Jeffrey some milk."). This kid got carted around and was given the royal treatment. Whenever I would see him I would salute him and say "Hail, Caesar!"

Then I had a child of my own. Now I understand...

Whenever anyone asks me, "How's Weston?" I usually respond, "What could he have to complain about? He has an enviable lifestyle."

He doesn't know what day it is, because he doesn't need to know. To him it's probably Febrenesday.

He doesn't need to know what time it is.

He doesn't care when he will eat because he has two (or sometimes more) able-bodied foot-servants who bring him every snack, beverage and meal. And if doesn't eat or drink what is brought, his servants will just keep bringing him different stuff until he eats or drinks something.

His valets also take him everywhere in a variety of vehicles. They also build structures for him out of blocks just so he can knock them down.

Bath time is like a pool party.

When he's tired, he just goes to sleep. Crib, floor, car seat, shopping cart.

He has more toys than anyone could possibly know what to do with, but he's content to play with a piece of cardboard. In fact, more often than not, he prefers the cardboard. he once played with a empty frozen vegetable box for like two hours.

He talks to us like we should understand what he's saying. But, seriously, what is he saying? We don't know; he doesn't care. But we seem to hang on his every word.

I love this little boy. But when I die, I hope heaven is getting to live like he does.