And we find that we miss him. We miss:
- Comments about each and every dog we pass—which number in the hundreds. Look how cute he is. Which one is cuter—this one or the black one yesterday? Can I pet him? Now, unbelievably, we find ourselves saying “Look at that dog. Wouldn’t Casey like him? Let’s take a picture.”
- Detailed reporting of which Pokemon has evolved, which one is the strongest, what level he has graduated to and more—as if we have any idea or desire to know or even care.
- Crisis surrounding the need to turn the game off before saving it. I have no idea why, but, ask any parent of a child with a DS these days, and you will find the same parental frustration.
- Needing to find restaurants with pasta or pizza on the menu.
- Occasional comments, but becoming more common with age, “This is boring.” It seems he has had his fill of cobblestone streets
- “My feet are killing me!” This is usually in tandem with #5
- Chatter which never, ever stops—assaulting ears on an ever going basis—in either language or when needed resorting to “self talk”
- Leapfrogging over hydrants or any other obstacle which he can maneuver into his pathway
- Running, running, running—his, not ours, for sure.
- Prolonged investigation of every window with a toy
- Disappearance into that store with a window
1. Kisses and warm hugs
2. “I love you, gramma”
3. Bed time routines
4. Laughing together
5. “I have a good life”
6. Morning snuggles
7. Hearing his beautiful Italian
8. Watching his fun
9. Doing things together
10. Reaching for my hand as we walk
11. “Look at that”’s
12. Sweet singing
13. Sharing life with a 10 year old
Yes, we are having a great time here in
Casey and his girlfriends. Maybe he isn’t missing us?!