You are so charming, little man, that it is becoming increasingly difficult to be stern with you. I am afraid of what you are going to be getting away with...
"It's time to go to bed" gets "No thank you."
"You need a diaper change" leads to "I'm fine, thank you."
You spend most of the time finding "grils" (girls) to chat up. More than once you have sidled up to a young lady and introduced yourself with a "How you doin'" and sometimes you ask for her number. It took me a few times to realize you were asking her age. Either way, if this is a preview of your future, people will need to lock up their daughters.
You've run away from me too many times to count. Once you got so far away from me at the Macy's that I had a nervous breakdown and was just about to call in a code red when I heard my name announced over the loudspeaker. You had made friends with the lady in Fine Jewelry and knew enough to tell her my first name and your first name. However, by the time I got there you told her that your name was really Patrick (your middle name) and she still thinks that is your name.
I live to hear you talk and the funny things you say. Listening to you sing "Life is a Highway" or ask for "lotsem snacks" or the way you can recite almost the entire "Cars" movie and how you can sound amazingly like Mater...you are a special joy.
It's not as often these days, but sometimes, I get a glimpse of the baby you once were. When you want to cuddle or be held...when you catch a nap in the car. Maybe you can stay my little baby a while longer...