This is my first post since Taylor's title can not longer be I'm Taylor and I'm Two. Holy smokes. When did that happen? Worse it is now 2013 which means in 6 months it will be I'm Taylor and I'm FOUR! I don't think our last kid should be able to grow at the normal rate. I think if it's your baby it should take twice as long for them to grow, keep them littler for longer so that you don't have baby cravings! Anyway this post is supposed to be about my Tay, not about my surprise over the title change, so here we go:
I made monkey bread again the other day. It was sitting in there on my kitchen counter, the warm gooey bread sending out it's delicious aroma through out the whole house brought all four of my kids (this includes my daughter's BFF Zoe who was spending part of winter vaca with us) up from the basement to see what I had pulled out of the oven and when could they possibly have their larger than fair share of it.
It was Taylor who first worked up the courage to quit standing there staring at it to come and find me and in his sweetest most endearing buttering mommy up voice asked "Please may I have some monkey bread?"
I wan't about to be fooled by the voice, the batting doe eyes or even for that matter the prayer like way he was holding his hands as he stood there waiting for the answer. Putting on my best confused mommy face I said "I don't know, are you a monkey?" Well let me tell you this brought on some deep thought. I mean I could see the wheels turning, the gears grinding, the poor hamster running for all it's worth behind his eyes. To admit he was a monkey was out of the question, but to deny it might mean he didn't get some monkey bread. What to do??
Finally it was like a light bulb went off and he gets a small smile and looks me right in the eye and says: "I'm sorta like one." That answer won him his monkey bread.
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