"He will LAUGH"...so will EVERYBODY else...

Old Mr. Bluest Eyes woke up this morning and
FIRST THING lived up to his name...

We chose his name partly for its meaning.
Isaac in Hebrew means, "He will laugh".
The bible story is that Isaac's mother, Sarah
laughed when messengers of God announced
to Abraham that they would finally have a son.
Apparently, given their advanced age and the
fact that she was barren, her doubt erupted
in the form of laughter. Ah, anyways...

Little did we know that our Isaac's name chosen
at birth would be a harbinger of his personality...

SO...back to this morning, FIRST THING. I mean
he STILL smelled all baby-sleepy and was rubbing his
eyes...curls awry all over his ridiculously round head...imagine...

This child goes to sleep and wakes up mid-speech.
He is a chatter-er, undoubtedly this is genetic.
My mother is a fan of the theory that, he, being the
way he is, is none other than cosmic payback for
how I was as a child...uh, whatever MOM (eye roll).

SO...my sweet baby this morning is silent.
PROFOUNDLY silent. ODDLY silent. STRANGELY silent.
CAT'S-GOT-YOUR-TONGUE quiet. His face is still
buried in my neck while I hold him (our morning ritual).
His increasingly longer legs curled around my waist when
I lean back and he sits up and I see that his lips are tightly sealed.

"What's up?" I say...
"Shhhh, keep your mowf clowsed." He whispers through
ever-so-slightly parted lips...

"Uhm...why?"
"Dhere's a BUG." He manages to get out without
parting his lips and clenching his teeth to
form a second barrier.

"Yeah, it's just a fly..."
Urgently, "SHHHHHH! Keep your mowf clowsed! HE'LL FLY IN!"

And the mother (me) laughed...long and hard...
delightfully deep down...the healing kind,
the kind where you HAFTA wipe your eyes afterwards.

First, I kissed my Isaac, thankful that he
has truly brought so much laughter into our home.

THEN...I asked, "So, if he wants to get
into our mouths then what about our noses? Our ears?"
(You GASP, how cruel! How mean! You begin a mental calculation
tallying his probable and likely outrageous adult therapy expense.
Uh, whatever, we've done that...we've got money
in a tax-deductible account already...college-schmollege...)

At the thought of how to possibly protect
all three vulnerable body holes, and
our resulting strategy pictured below,
WE LAUGHED TOGETHER...another blessing.

So here's the pic, His baby-fat thumbs are plugged
deep in his ears, if you can't see.
He's still quiet on the couch as I type...
The rather GIANT fly is buzzing in the window.

I'm thinking flies in the house aren't such a bad thing...
Hmmmm...where is that flyswatter again?
Geez...I can't seem to find it, shoot...dang.