“He’s not a little man! He’s a little boy!”
First quote from the lich-in-law series.
This was stated to my husband while I was not present, during a conversation about how controlling I was (love the lich-in-law!). Some context: we both refer to our son as “the little man”. It just sort of came out of the blue, and was never a label with intent. It’s partly, sort of in reference to The Anchorman:
Because well…Ollie’s not a normal baby, just like Baxter’s not a normal dog.
Most babies scream and cry and spend a lot of time being really, REALLY miserable. Ollie just doesn’t do that. He’s very content – so much so, I will at times glance over to see if he’s okay – since he’s being very quiet in his sleep, and he’ll be looking right at me…and just smile because I happened to look over. It’s heartbreaking, because I get this feeling that he was probably watching me for some time – but instead of demanding my attention, he just hoped that I’d look over. I still wonder how many times he’s done that, and I’ve not looked because I was busy and he went to sleep, still hoping I would notice and look over. He’s abnormally patient – will shove his hands in his mouth and as soon as he hears the water to warm his milk start to flow, he immediately calms down and WAITS for his food.
Which is why, when this was brought to my attention, I realized that calling him a little boy…felt wrong. Little boys are messy. Little boys are rough and tumble. Little boys are noisy. Ollie is just none of those things. On a given level, he might one day be a “little boy” because he’ll be getting into trouble and causing a riot…but for now he’s just so relaxed and so loving and so quiet and so delighted with the smallest amount of attention that he is more a gentleman than some fully-grown men are. My father’s girlfriend once called him an “old soul”. I think that suits him.
“Oh Ollie! You are my little gentleman! I’ll take you to foggy London-town because you are my gentleman!”