He’s 8 now. I’m thinking we should probably stop referring to him as SuperBoy. So from now on, he’s CJ on here.
I told each child they could pick a date with mom. He chose Olive Garden. “Just you and me. Just us by ourselves.” I’m not a fan of Olive Garden, but when your son says that’s where he wants to go just you and me by ourselves, I’m there in a heartbeat. A melancholy heartbeat that wants to hold on forever to my little man.
He settled in for the drive with the Penguins of Madagascar DVD.
I know it’s fuzzy, but I love this picture of him because he’s talking so excitedly and he’s SUPER excited about the AMAZING BREADSTICKS! “How many can I have, mom? Can we ask for more? She’ll bring us more?? Awesome.”
And then Awesome Mom let him order the chocolate cake. Seriously, I rock.
Eight year olds love to talk and have little self-consciousness, which makes our conversations wonderfully sporadic and random. Underwater animals always comes up, and favorite colors and the country of Italy and cake and why those people aren’t talking at the next table and Batman.