Little Men

This morning, my four-year-old referred to his breakfast as oatmeal and I almost cried. One of his last remaining baby words was the much loved "oh-pino" and now I am sad.

Thankfully, his older brother still says "vitafin" and "ah-post" instead of vitamin and supposed.

They're not little for long enough, is the thing. One second they're small and not sleeping through the night and the next minute they're eating their oatmeal for breakfast.

Last night, when I climbed into the bunk bed to read to the boys, my oldest said, "Ew! Do you smell that?" Then there was a dramatic pause before he announced, "I cut the cheese."

They start off so small and cuddly and then they turn into dirty, smelly little men who say things like, "Cut the cheese."

Even the youngest yesterday was found sitting calmly outside with a stick. "What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm squishing bugs until they have blood."

Thankfully, I grew up with a brother. Still, these things, these boys, are somewhat foreign to me.