Dear B, I am soaking up this summer with you. You start kindergarten in a couple of short weeks and it is still so hard to believe. It shouldn’t be. You are the size of a 4th grader, you just started reading your first chapter book, and last week you started riding your bike without training wheels. It’s probably time. But still… You still need a nightlight, you reach for my hand when we’re walking together, and you ask your mama out on dates. You asked if we could go on a date yesterday (copying your dad, of course), and I was happy to oblige, since Dad had evening plans anyways. Our night out last night was perfect. I talked you into going to my favorite sushi place (you aren’t the only con-artist in the family), and then we went to play mini-golf. I was so proud to see that you are learning to be grateful. You thanked me several times, although you were less than gracious that I squeezed in a grocery store stop there at the end.
Also, you really set yourself apart from the grown men I’ve dated by announcing loudly at the lovely sushi restaurant that you needed to go number 3 (number 1 plus 2). When I hissed that maybe you could hold it because they might clear our table if we get up, you pulled a classic B: “Oh, no I don’t need to go. I tooted. I just tooted.”